Porcelain
by Septemberrains8
Summary: Remus Lupin returns a book he borrowed from Minerva McGonagall but things don't quite work out as he expected.. Remus/Minerva, set during POA.
1. A Stormy Night

This started out as a missing scene to explain how Professor McGonagall came to tell Lupin about Harry's tea leaves in POA.  It's grown into something a bit more… well, a lot more really!  The title comes from the Moby song of the same name.  

Please note: in my universe Professor McG is not an aging seventy year old – from reading the books I always pictured her as being much younger.  So don't waste your time flaming me to tell me she's too old!

PG-13 for romance.  Usual disclaimers apply.

_(Note: this chapter has been reformatted and minor errors have been corrected.  M – 19/02/04)_

~

Porcelain 

A bitter wind lashed angrily at the towers and turrets of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, rattling the windows in their frames and sending cold draughts whistling through the corridors of the castle.  Remus Lupin shivered and quickened his pace, pulling his cloak more tightly around himself for warmth.  It was only the beginning of October but already the weather had turned cold and the nights were drawing in rapidly.  Winter was approaching fast.  If it gets much colder than this, Remus thought to himself, the lake will freeze.  He hurried along another corridor and up a short flight of steps that was almost hidden in a shadowy corner, until he reached a large, brightly coloured tapestry hanging on an otherwise bare stretch of wall.  He had never noticed this tapestry before: in fact he was sure he had never even passed it, and for someone that had spent a large portion of his schooldays exploring every nook and cranny of the castle, that was saying something.  It was lucky Filius had given him instructions because he would never have found it by himself.

"Diffindio!"

As soon as he muttered the word the tapestry split silently down the middle and parted to reveal a polished oak door set into the wall.  Next to it was a small brass plate and the sight of the name engraved upon it caused Remus to smile.  Then another gust of wind tugged at his cloak and, hesitating no longer, he rapped sharply on the door.  

There was no response.  Remus pulled out "Latest Developments in Cross Species Transfiguration" from where it was tucked safely under his arm.  Minerva did say she needed this back for her class tomorrow, he reminded himself.  Besides, it's not that late.

Just as he was about to give in and retrace his steps back downstairs, there was a sudden click of a key in the lock and the door swung open.

"Remus?" 

"Good evening," he said.  

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was already dressed for bed in green silk pyjamas and tartan dressing gown.  She blinked sleepily at Remus and at that moment he realised he had awoken her.  A quick glance at his watch told him that it was indeed later than he'd thought.  Quite a lot later.

"I'm sorry," Remus apologised hastily.  "I didn't realise you were asleep, I was just returning this."  He held up the book.  "You said you needed it back," he added, somewhat lamely.  It occurred to him suddenly that he could have just waited and seen her at breakfast, and he cursed his own stupidity.  He'd not been sleeping well since he'd returned to Hogwarts in September: the news of Sirius Black's release had unsettled him greatly, not to mention his own apprehension that his carefully kept secret would be revealed.  He was so used to being up well into the small hours that he'd failed to appreciate that the evening had already passed and the night was well advanced.  

Minerva, however, didn't seem to mind.

"It's all right," she said.  "I couldn't sleep anyway as it happens.  Come in and keep me company for a while."

It was an enticing offer.  He could feel the heat radiating through the open door, a stark contrast to the chilly corridor in which he was presently standing.

"Only if you're sure I'm not disturbing you," Remus said, afraid that she was just being polite.  He knew that she had been concerned about him.  When she'd joined the staff table on the first day of term and had laid eyes on him for the first time in sixteen years he'd seen her shock at just how tired and ill he was looking.  She'd tried to hide it but all the same, it had been there.  

Minerva dispersed his fears with a warm – and rare – smile.  "Not at all," she said.  "Please come in.  It would be nice to catch up." 

It would be nice, he decided.  Making up his mind, Remus followed her through the door and was immediately enveloped by the warmth of her living room.  He'd never visited Minerva's rooms before – in fact, until he'd been appointed as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher in September, the last time he'd seen her was when they'd been at school.  She'd had her own bedroom then – her privilege as head girl – but that was nothing compared to this.  The room he stood in now was panelled in polished mahogany wood with bookcases sunk in at intervals and a high, arching ceiling above.  Velvet drapes in a deep crimson colour hung over the large windows, keeping the winter storms at bay.  A sofa and several comfortable armchairs that were arranged on a carpeted area in front of the roaring fire filled much of the space, but there was also a large desk piled high with papers and books.  The floor was polished wood: so shiny that Remus could almost see his reflection below him, mirroring his steps as he ventured cautiously into this unknown territory.

"It's very nice," he ventured.  

"Thank you."  She waved him towards an armchair and he collapsed gratefully into its comfortable cushions, feeling his nose and ears turning red at the sudden change in temperature.  After using her wand to conjure up two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, one of which she passed to Remus, she perched herself daintily on the edge of the sofa.  

"How does it feel to be back?" she asked.

"Strange," he said, "but I think I'm enjoying it.  It's also good to be able to keep an eye on Harry," he added.

"Really?  Well, it would appear that you are not the only one interested in Harry."

"Do you mean Sirius Black?"

"Actually, I was referring to Sybill Trelawney," Minerva said.  "I assume you've already had the pleasure of meeting our resident clairvoyant."

Remus frowned in mock seriousness.  "Dear me, Minerva.  If I didn't know you better I might think that you were somewhat sceptical."

Minerva snorted and proceeded to fill her colleague in on what had happened during her third year class.  Remus listened with growing concern.

"Oh dear," he said.  "As if Harry hasn't got enough to worry about right now."

"Exactly.  And you were there when Albus was telling everyone about what Sirius Black was saying in Azkaban." 

Remus fell silent for a moment, remembering his schooldays with his close friends James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black.  Both James and Peter were dead now and Sirius was worse than dead: he had betrayed them all in the most horrible way imaginable.  The thought of him being free again and able to harm Harry enraged Remus.

"Does Harry know?" he asked.

Minerva shook her head.  "Albus thought it would be best not to tell him.  The poor boy would only worry."  There was sadness in her eyes for a moment, and then anger as she remembered the grim fate that Sybill Trelawney had predicted for Harry.  "That woman never could keep her nose out.  I expect she's been waiting eagerly to have Harry in her class, just so she could pull a stunt like this."

"Have you spoken to Albus?" Remus enquired.

"No.  He appears to think I have some kind of grudge against her.  An entirely ridiculous suggestion, of course."

Remus decided it would be best not to comment and instead took a sip from his hot chocolate.  It was deliciously thick and creamy and he savoured the sweet taste for a moment before swallowing.  

"So what did you say to Harry?" he enquired.

"I told him that if he died he would be excused from handing his homework in."

Remus laughed.  "I'm sure his friends will reassure him anyway.  Hermione Granger in particular: she seems to have a lot of sense."

Minerva cradled her mug in both hands before taking a delicate sip from it.  "Yes," she said, "I am somewhat disappointed that she chose to study Divination herself."

"Nothing wrong with keeping an open mind," Remus pointed out.  "Anyway, she's studying rather a lot of subjects I believe."

Minerva chose to avoid answering this.  "The girl has clear animagus potential," she said instead.  "I wouldn't be at all surprised if she was to become to Hogwarts youngest ever animagus."

At the mention of animagi, Remus smiled fondly.  Though she did not know it, Minerva had not been the only successful animagus at Hogwarts in recent years.  Remus had been a werewolf since being bitten as a small child, leading his three best school friends to decide to become animagi in order to keep him company.  Minerva's training had in fact proved extremely useful to James, Sirius and Peter, who had frequently used James' invisibility cloak to eavesdrop on her lessons.  

"Would you like a game of chess?" Minerva asked, cutting across his reverie.  An intricately carved wooden chess set sat on a side table nearby.  

Remus eyed it warily.  "I think not," he said.  "I'm a little out of practice.  What's that muggle game you used to have?  The one with the numbers?"

"Rummikub?"

"That's the one."

With a quick summoning charm from Minerva a square green box flew off a shelf on the far side of the room and landed gently on the coffee table in front of them.  Minerva opened it and lifted out the racks and the bag of tiles, dealing them swiftly out and reminding Remus of the rules at the same time.  He sat back and studied the array of different coloured numbers before him, looking for his first move.

"Three twelves," he said eventually, laying the tiles down on the table. 

Immediately she made her move, adding another tile to his set and creating a further two of her own.  Remus was impressed at her speed and said so which caused her to blush and look away.  In an instant he was reminded of a surprisingly shy seventeen-year-old Head Girl whose long, dark hair was scraped back into a tight ponytail and whose nose was usually buried in a book.  Despite her aptitude for studying, Minerva had also been a talented Quidditch player and had been seeker for the Gryffindor team.  Since Remus' close friend James had been one of the team's chasers, Remus had spent a fair amount of time at practices and matches.  Minerva had been a quiet girl who rarely socialised with the rest of the team.  When Gryffindor house held their famous after-match parties she had invariably sat in a quiet corner supervising proceedings.  But she never looked bored: her eyes watched the scene before her with interest, observing but not participating.  It was at one of these parties that Remus had first spoken to her.  

"So where have you been for the last sixteen years?" she asked casually. 

"Why, did you miss me?" he said lightly, a hint of mischievous suggestion in his tone.

Minerva raised her eyebrows disapprovingly at him.  "It's your move," she said pointedly.  

Remus grinned and placed his tiles on the table: a red ten to one set, a joker from another.  He manoeuvred the numbers around until he could see no further moves then sat back.

"I travelled for a while," he said in answer to her earlier question.  "I had some crazy idea I could find a cure for my condition if I just looked in the right place.  I spent about two years searching until I came back to England to see James not long after Harry was born.  He adored Harry.  He said I should stop chasing impossible dreams and start living my life instead of wasting it." 

Remus took a deep swig of his drink.  "He also told me Dumbledore had appointed you as Professor of Transfiguration.  Of course, since you were Hogwarts' youngest ever animagus, it wasn't really a surprise."

Minerva couldn't hide her pride at this and smiled warmly at the memory.  "What did you do after that?"

 "Two days after that James and Lily were murdered by Voldemort.  And then Peter was killed and Sirius captured.  Suddenly all my friends were gone.  I grieved for a while and then decided to take James' advice.  I've been working for the Ministry ever since researching ways to repel dark magic – curses and creatures and so forth.  Until Dumbledore contacted me and offered me this job."

"I'm glad you accepted," Minerva said softly.  "Even though you didn't get in touch with me once!"

He gave her an apologetic smile.  "Sorry," he said.  "I meant to come and visit, I just never got around to it."

She sniffed disapprovingly.  "Just a letter would have been nice."

Remus pounced upon this.  "So you did miss me!" he said triumphantly.

"Of course I missed you!" she protested indignantly.  "Remus, you were the only one that ever bothered to speak to me.  Not even the boys in my own year were interested."

"Men are always intimidated by intelligent women.  Not to mention attractive ones."

"You weren't," she pointed out.

He shrugged.  "It was nice to talk to a girl who was interested in slightly more than putting on make-up and chasing boys.  Unlike the girls in my own class."

"That's a little unfair, isn't it?"

"How is that unfair?"

"Well, not all the girls in your year were that bad.  Melyssa Thomas was nice.  And there was Alana Cobble – she was on the Quidditch team."

"I suppose so," he said.  "But come on, Minerva.  You have to admit they weren't nearly as intriguing as you."

Minerva almost choked on her hot chocolate.

"Intriguing?" she spluttered.  "Don't insult me, Remus - please."

"I wasn't!" he protested.  "Really, I wasn't."

She seemed to accept this but was unwilling to discuss it further.  Instead she carefully rearranged her remaining tiles on the rack in front of her.  It was getting increasingly hot where they sat and she hesitated for the briefest of moments before removing her dressing gown and folding it neatly over the back of a nearby chair.  Free of it's suffocating warmth, she settled herself back onto the sofa, unaware of Remus' eyes following her the entire time.  Stop ogling her, he scolded himself, but he could not tear his gaze away.  He wondered if she realised just how attractive she looked right now with her hair loose and her silk pyjamas that flattered the slim figure normally hidden away under layers of thick, high necked robes.  Hastily he turned his attention back to the game and tried to focus on his next move.

"Doesn't Harry take after James?" Minerva said unexpectedly.  "Every time I see him it brings back memories."

There was a thoughtful expression on her face, and Remus was slightly taken aback by the sudden change in subject.

"Yes," he said, slowly.  "Yes, I suppose he does."  Then he laughed.  "He's lucky, really.  All the girls fancied James."

"Not me," Minerva said.  "I always preferred the quiet, studious type myself."  She gave him a long, appraising look.  "I preferred you," she admitted eventually.

Remus stared at her in surprise.  It was the last thing he'd been expecting her to say.  Nothing she had said or done when they had known each other had ever so much as hinted that she might be attracted to him.  

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked her in amazement.

Minerva sighed.  "Remus, you were two years younger than me.  There were girls in your own class that liked you and you turned them down.  Why would you ever have been interested in me?"

"Why?"  He laughed.  "I've already told you why.  Anyway, it doesn't matter.  You know you wouldn't have wanted me if you'd known what I really was."

There was a long pause.  Minerva stared fixedly down at her tiles as if she hadn't heard him.  Just as Remus was about to break the silence she said: "I knew you were a werewolf."

She knew?  Remus had been totally unprepared for this revelation.

"H-how?" he stammered.  "Who told you?"

"Nobody told me.  I worked it out for myself."

"But how?  I mean… how..?"

She met his eyes and he saw she was blushing.  "I was paying attention," she said coyly.  "But I never told anyone, I promise."

This knowledge changed everything.  Always before he had been able to blame his illness.  But she'd known and still, even at seventeen, she hadn't been frightened away.  She'd treated him exactly the same as everyone else.  And she'd kept his secret safe.  

Remus looked at his colleague with newfound respect.  "You really are a true Gryffindor," he said, placing his hand on hers.  Minerva blushed and looked away.  After a moment she pulled her hand away awkwardly and turned her attention back to the game.  

"I couldn't have gone out with you," he said hesitantly.  "Or anyone else.  I couldn't have trusted myself."

"Well, it's all in the past now.  We should just forget about it, don't you think?"

It wasn't a question.  He opened his mouth to protest but could not think of a suitable argument and gave up.  

There was silence for a while as they both pretended to study the game.  The fire was burning low now, yellow flames replaced by glowing red ashes.  Growing old, as they both had, as James and Lily and Peter never would. Achingly sad memories haunted Remus Lupin constantly.  No wonder Minerva had chosen to stay at Hogwarts, safe from the horrors unfolding around them.  

After a short while Minerva reached for her tiles, dealing them out deftly onto the table.  Two sets, a yellow one from here, and black one from there.  She arranged the new tiles together and then added the last of hers.

"Rummikub," she said smugly, flipping her empty tile rack forward onto the table.

Remus sighed in defeat.  "I should have known you'd win," he muttered.

"I've had a lot of time to practice," Minerva replied and Remus saw it again: the briefest flash of sadness before the mask could be replaced.  Before he could pursue it further she quickly packed the game away and put the lid back on the box.

"If you'll excuse me, Remus, I must be getting to bed."

"Don't let me stop you," he teased.

She frowned disapprovingly but he could see a sparkle in her eyes.  "Thank you for a nice evening," she said.  "It was nice to see you."  She gave him an affectionate smile.

"We should do it again sometime," Remus agreed.  He got to his feet and made his way over to the door.  He was about to leave when something stopped him and he paused with one hand on the doorknob.  This is your chance, he told himself.  If you walk away now you'll never know.  He looked back at Minerva who was waiting expectantly for him to leave, probably anxious to get some sleep before it became so late that it wasn't even worth going to bed.  The light caught her strangely and for a moment she seemed like a porcelain doll, perfect and impossibly fragile.  

Remus took a step towards her and cupped his right hand against her cheek, holding her gaze as he gently stroked her lips with his thumb.  She looked startled but did not break away, waiting to see what he was going to do next.  He realised he was holding his breath and let it out slowly.  He could no longer fight his attraction to her.  It had been easy to deny it at school: he was a scruffy fifteen-year-old werewolf; she was Hogwarts' Head Girl and star pupil.  The notion of any kind of a relationship between them had seemed impossible.  But now… now they were free to do as they wished.  

Minerva looked like she was about to protest and as she opened her mouth to speak he brought his lips down to meet hers, silencing her with a kiss.  After a moment she responded, relaxing into his embrace with a soft sigh, kissing him back first softly but then with a growing hunger that took him by surprise.  He'd imagined she'd be stiff, uptight, that she'd kiss him a little and then send him on his way.  He was not expecting this vibrant, passionate woman a world away from the strict, proper deputy headmistress he was used to seeing downstairs.  But she was clutching at his back, pressing closer against him, sending his pulse racing as all his blood ran south.  

Eventually they broke apart to catch their breath and gazed silently at each other in the soft candlelight.

"It would never work," Remus said after a moment.

She ran her fingers gently through his hair and studied his expression as intently as if she was Sybill Trelawney reading the future in his eyes.

"No," she said vaguely.  "Absolutely not."  Her cheeks were flushed with arousal and he could see the longing in her eyes as she struggled with her conscience. 

Remus kissed her again, undoing the top button of her pyjamas and then the second, boldly reaching a hand in to gently cup her breast and causing her to shiver with desire.  Her hips moved of their own accord, nudging gently against his pelvis, seeking a certain part of his anatomy.  

"Remus," she whispered.  "Remus… make love to me."

"Are you sure?" he asked somewhat pointlessly.  As if he could resist now.  

Taking her hand he guided her up the few steps that led to her bedroom and lifted her tenderly onto her bed, kissing her with increasing urgency all the while.  He tugged at her pyjama bottoms as she unbuttoned his shirt, moaning softly all the while.  Finally they were both free of their clothing and he stared at her, seeing her as he'd never seen her before: naked, the curve of her body illuminated beautifully by the candlelight.  Hair dishevelled, cheeks flushed, lips parted in silent anticipation… and eyes that gazed up at him now, drawing him closer.

"I never dreamed you'd be-" he began, but his words caught in his throat.  Reaching out, she took his hands and pulled him down on top of her and he lost himself in a haze of unimaginable pleasure.  

When it was all over he lay with his head on her breast, listening to the sound of her breathing as she drifted into a peaceful sleep.  It might just work, he thought, and then the fatigue of weeks of insomnia finally overwhelmed him.  

Away from the cold wind of autumn, Remus Lupin slept.


	2. In the Cold Light of Morning

Chapter 2: The Cold Light of Morning 

Dawn was breaking over Hogwarts.  The storms of the previous night had eventually abated and moved south, leaving the lawns green and lush from the drenching they had received.  Early morning sunlight filtered through the few clouds that remained, causing the castle to glow almost magically and a slight breeze rippled the lake and sent the sunlight sparkling like diamonds across the water.  

From a window in a tower high above, Minerva McGonagall gazed out over the grounds of Hogwarts impervious to the beauty of the new day that was beginning.  She had awoken alone, although this in itself was no great surprise.  Every morning for the last ten years she had awoken alone and up until now she had never felt sad about it.  But today things were different: Remus Lupin, her colleague and her lover of the previous night, was no longer in her bed.  Despite the truths they had shared, despite the passion and intimacy of their encounter, he had gone before the sun had even risen and Minerva was alone once more.  

Her mind drifted back to the previous summer.  She had been pleased when Dumbledore had informed her of his choice for Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but as the beginning of term had grown closer she had felt mild apprehension.  It had been sixteen years since they'd last spoken, sixteen long, eventful years filled with pain and sadness and the deaths of people they'd cared for deeply, even loved.  Could things ever be the same between them?  When he'd arrived she'd been shocked to see how much he'd aged, his hair already streaked with grey despite his relative youth.  They'd seen little of each other during the first few weeks of term, but then last night they'd finally sat down and talked and Minerva had discovered that, deep down, Remus Lupin was still the man she had known and loved as a teenager.  

The sound of the clock chiming the quarter hour roused her from her reverie and she turned away from the window and started to dress, ignoring all the while the growing heaviness in her heart.  Why had he left her?  Did he regret what they had done?  And then a new thought struck her: did she regret it?  Her behaviour had been completely out of character.  All those years of restraint forgotten in the heat of the moment.  But now in the clear light of day, despite great effort, she felt no remorse or shame.  She wondered if Remus knew that he had been the first to touch her that way.  Probably not, she decided.  Oh, she knew some of the students speculated – usually those that had born the brunt of her wrath after some misdemeanour or other – but most people found it hard to believe that a woman of her age could possibly be still – and she shuddered at the word – a virgin. 

She hadn't intended to remain single this long but life at Hogwarts had kept Minerva away from the seedier side of the wizarding world and she had rarely come into contact with men other than her colleagues and visitors from Ministry of Magic.  Oh, Cornelius Fudge had tried it on a few times despite being married and Andreas Aspartin had eyed her lustfully across the high table for almost a month until she'd threatened to castrate him with a carefully aimed severing charm, but for the most part Minerva had been left alone.  Her lack of a love life rarely bothered her: in fact she was glad to avoid the complications and altercations of a romantic relationship.  Minerva prized her reputation very highly and was nothing but professional.  The very notion of throwing all that away in search of mindless sexual gratification was absurd to say the least. 

Now, looking at the rumpled sheets and scattered clothing that reminded her she had not dreamt the whole thing, Minerva felt no regret.  Only sadness that the man she loved had felt unable to remain by her side until morning.  

* * * * *

Breakfast at Hogwarts began at seven thirty sharp and continued for an hour and a half, allowing plenty of time for those who were not early risers to drag themselves from the warmth of their beds and make their way slowly downstairs.  Minerva prided herself on her timekeeping and was usually in her seat even before the house elves had finished laying the tables but today she had lingered too long upstairs and was now late.  As she hurried down the last flight of stairs it was almost eight and she could already hear the buzz of dozens of conversations spilling from the large doorway ahead.    

She entered the Great Hall and immediately her gaze fell on the High Table.  Most of her colleagues were already seated and were no doubt wondering where the Deputy Headmistress was.  Albus was deep in conversation with Venus Sinistra and Severus Snape, whose habitual scowl was, for once, absent.  Hagrid was tucking into the mountain of food piled on his extra large plate, far too focused on his food to chatter with the others.  Only Filius Flitwick noticed her standing there and waved enthusiastically.  Remus was nowhere to be seen.  Minerva did her best to push her disappointment aside and took her usual seat next to Dumbledore, who acknowledged her arrival with a cheery smile.

"Good morning!"

"Good morning, Albus," she said softly, helping herself to fresh yoghurt and cereal and hoping her late arrival would not be remarked upon.

"You look tired, my dear."  He held her gaze until she looked away.

"The storm kept me awake," she said.  "Why is Venus looking so excited?"

Reluctantly he allowed her to change the subject and proceeded to tell her about Venus' plans for a new telescope that would allow photographs of the night sky to be taken.  Minerva did her best to appear interested but she could not tear her eyes away from the door.  The minutes ticked by but there was still no sign of Remus.  Finally she finished her breakfast and promptly excused herself.

The day seemed to drag on forever.  Throughout her morning classes she was distracted by the memories of the previous night.  No awkward teenage fumbling, just perfect harmony as they'd moved together, doing their best to try and heal each other's pain.  She remembered the heat of his skin against hers, the smell of his aftershave, the look in his eyes as he'd lifted her gently on to her bed.  Lost in her own thoughts, Minerva barely noticed when Neville Longbottom inadvertently transfigured his apple into a large and noxious smelling venus flytrap.  She dealt with the resulting chaos without any harsh words or deductions of house points, leaving her class to wonder if someone had placed her under the Imperius curse.  She ate lunch alone in her office under the pretext of marking homework essays.  

Her only class after lunch was the seventh year advanced human transfiguration group.  It was a two-hour session and she forced herself to concentrate, knowing only too well that if she did not then the consequences could be disastrous.  Human transfiguration had been off the Hogwarts curriculum for many years since Dumbledore's successor as Transfiguration Professor had been distracted by the sight of Poppy Pomfrey in a sundress and had accidentally transfigured two of his students into marshmallows.  There had been uproar from both their parents and the Board of Governors.  Only in recent years had Minerva managed to persuade Dumbledore that the subject could be taught safely and she knew she could not afford any mistakes.  As the lesson progressed she became absorbed in the subject matter and started to enjoy herself.  Transfiguration fascinated her and she loved nothing more than sharing her knowledge with others, particularly the more senior classes who were always keen to learn and constantly asked questions.  When the bell rang to signal the end of the lesson she was almost reluctant to finish.

"Homework will be two rolls on Aviland's Theory of Antiform Spells and how it can be applied to cross-species transfiguration," she called, and there was a rush of movement as the class hurried to scribble down their assignment.  

Suddenly a great deal of whispering broke out amongst the students and she followed their curious gazes to the doorway.  

Remus Lupin stood waiting there.  

Waiting for her?  

Despite her unhappiness, she couldn't escape the surge of arousal that shot through her veins and set her skin tingling.  She felt her cheeks grow warm with desire and hoped that her class would not notice the flush of red across her normally pale face.  She closed her eyes for the briefest second.  Remembering.  Hoping.  Bracing herself for the rejection she felt was inevitable.  He saw that she had noticed him and came over to where she stood.

"How are you?" he asked, concern evident in his expression.

"I missed you this morning," she said, her voice barely a whisper but deceptively calm.  "Why did you leave?"

"I was afraid you'd got more than you bargained for last night."

"Well, perhaps I did.  But trust me, Remus.  I'm quite capable of saying no.  And if I recall correctly, it was I who asked you to…"

Awkwardly she broke off.  She was acutely aware of the eyes of her class upon her, watching her and Remus curiously as they packed away their things.  Heaven forbid that their relationship should become the subject of gossip.  Rumours spread like wildfire at Hogwarts and could do a lot of damage if left unchecked.

"I can't talk about this now," she said instead, turning away from him and placing her books back onto the shelves behind her desk.

"Can I see you after dinner?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Fine.  Now please go!"

Obediently he left the room.

* * * * *

Minerva laid the pile of homework parchments down on her coffee table and removed her cloak and hat, hanging them carefully on the back of the door.  She had less than an hour until dinner, having been accosted by first Hermione Granger and then Albus as she tried to escape back upstairs.  Hermione's question about her transfiguration essay had been relatively easy to answer but Albus had delayed her rather longer, wanting her opinion first on a letter from the Ministry and then on his rather ambitious plans for reintroducing the Triwizard Tournament.  Grateful to be free at last, Minerva went to run herself a bath.  

As the large, sunken tub slowly filled, she replayed her earlier conversation with Remus in her head.  From the small amount he'd said it was hard to tell whether he wanted to continue with their fledgling relationship or whether he regretted the whole thing and just felt guilty for leading her on in the first place.  She hoped it wasn't the latter.  He'd made the first move, after all, and he'd known how she felt about him.  Well, how she'd felt about him when she was seventeen anyway.  She undressed slowly, remembering his hands undressing her barely twenty-four hours ago.  Perhaps it would be best if they didn't continue things, she considered.  After all, there were quite a few people that wouldn't be impressed if they found out.  Severus Snape, for one.  He'd made no secret of the fact that he disliked and distrusted Remus.  If he found out that they had slept together he would have a field day.  There was no knowing how much trouble he would stir up.  It wasn't that Dumbledore would disapprove – most likely he'd encourage them provided they were discreet – but Severus had a remarkable knack for spreading rumours.  If their affair became common knowledge there would be serious repercussions for both of them.  

Satisfied with the water level, Minerva turned off the taps and was about to step into the bath when a sudden knock sounded at the door.  With a sigh, she pulled on her tartan dressing gown and went to answer the door.  

Remus Lupin was waiting in the corridor, a bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand and a sheepish grin on his face.

"Aren't you going to invite me in?" he asked.

Minerva tried to frown at him but couldn't suppress her delight at seeing him.  

"I thought you said 'after dinner'?"  

"I realised I couldn't wait that long," he said, holding out the flowers.  She accepted them graciously but did not move from the doorway.  For a moment there was silence as both of them pondered what to say next.

Eventually Remus spoke.  "I had to take the wolfsbane potion this morning.  There's only two days until full moon and I didn't take any last night because I was with you.  I was going to come back but then I was afraid you'd regret what we did.  I thought it would be easier for you if I wasn't there."

"I don't regret it, Remus," Minerva said firmly.  "Surely you know me well enough to know that I wouldn't be pressured into doing anything I wasn't comfortable with."

"Well, yes.  But I also know you're not the kind of woman to jump into bed with just anyone on the spur of the moment."

Minerva looked embarrassed for a moment.  

"Remus, you're not 'just anyone'," she said.  "It's because I felt so strongly about you that I did what I did."

"Really?"  

He gave her a relieved smile and reached out to hug her.  She fell willingly into his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder as he embraced her tightly.  After a moment he released her, then leaned forward to kiss her chastely on the lips.

"Well, we only have two days," he said.  "We should make the most of it.  Starting now."

"My bath is getting cold," she protested faintly. 

"Bath?" he queried.  A wicked gleam appeared in his eyes.  Taking a step forward, he lifted her easily into his arms eliciting a gasp of surprise.  He kicked the door closed behind them and carried her through into her bathroom, setting her gently down beside the tub.  

"Remus, we'll miss dinner!"

"Not if we're quick," he said firmly, beginning to undress.  Finally all of his clothing was strewn across the floor and he stepped down into the bath, sliding gently into the sweetly scented bubbles.  Minerva watched with amusement as he dived beneath the surface and then re-emerged, shaking the water from his hair.  A moment later she joined him, smiling shyly from across the water.

Remus was first to break the silence.  

"Professor McGonagall, I do believe I'm falling in love with you.  I apologise for any embarrassment this may cause you.  I'm sure if we work together we can find a way to deal with this."

Minerva cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Together?"

"Together," he confirmed.  

He reached for her, pulling her into his embrace.

"Well, then, _Professor_ Lupin," she said huskily.  "It appears I have no choice."

She cupped her hands against his face and lowered her mouth to kiss him, feverish and passionate.  Her dark hair fell loose and floated like a raven's wing on the surface of the water as they moved together.  No more words were spoken, only soft moans growing louder and more urgent until at last they reached sweet, shuddering release.  They finished washing together then dried and dressed in silence.  It wasn't an awkward silence, rather a comfortable peace borne of the closeness between them.  Remus' threadbare robes looked a little crumpled but he was too happy to care.

"May I escort you to dinner?"

With a grin he proffered his arm and she took it with a smile, allowing him to lead her outside and along the corridor.  They reached the top of the marble staircase and heard voices approaching from the opposite direction.  Quickly Minerva disentangled herself from Remus, kissing him affectionately on the cheek before turning to make her way down to the Great Hall, slightly ahead of him but conscious all the while of his presence behind her.  She was not conscious of the figure that watched them from across the landing, whose gaze followed them downstairs, whose mouth was twisted into a malevolent smirk.  

Whose eyes gleamed with triumph at the discovery of their secret.  

Severus Snape stood for a moment longer before he, too, set off downstairs to dinner.


	3. Hallowe'en

Chapter Three: Halloween 

~

October's full moon fell on an exceptionally clear Sunday night.  After the earlier storms, the weather now remained resolutely calm and the clear moonlight had illuminated the castle and it's grounds almost as if it was day.  Finally the night was over and the sun had risen into a cloudless sky, gradually moving higher above the horizon as the day progressed.  

Remus Lupin awoke and immediately groaned.  It's over, he thought.  Thank goodness.  His whole body was stiff and aching, partly from the transformation itself and partly from the discomfort of the cold stone floor he'd been lying on.  The brilliant midday sunshine streamed through the windows of the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, so bright that it hurt his eyes.  Shielding his face with his hands, Remus pulled himself slowly upright and stumbled over to the small sink in the corner of the room to splash cold water on his face.  Despite his discomfort he knew that things could easily have been a lot worse.  

It was only the second time he'd transformed since his arrival at Hogwarts and the Wolfsbane potion had made a huge difference.  No longer did he have to barricade himself away and hope that no one would hear his howls of pain and decide to investigate.  No longer did he awaken to find himself covered in self-inflicted scratches and bite marks, injuries that would take weeks to heal and would never fade fully before the next full moon came around and it happened all over again.  And most of all, no longer did he lose his mind to crazed bloodlust, capable of harming any and all, including those he loved.  The potion had rendered him harmless to others and allowed him at last to retain his dignity.  Better still, the last full moon had been on a Saturday night, something he was entirely grateful for since it meant he'd been able to attend all of his lessons.  Today he had missed his first and second year classes but Minerva had covered one and Marcus Vector the other, both maintaining the story that Professor Lupin was merely feeling a little under the weather and was resting upstairs.  To all intents and purposes, his secret was safe.  He hoped it would stay that way.

Thinking of Minerva, Remus wondered where she was.  Right now he missed her desperately.  She'd asked if she could stay with him when he'd transformed but he'd refused point blank.  She'd probably have been perfectly safe but that was not his concern.  Though her presence would have been a comfort to him, he was loathe for her to see him in his wolf form, knowing that as long as she didn't, he could pretend to himself that he was normal, the kind of man he knew she deserved.  

Remus pulled himself together and decided to go and take a bath.  It was lunchtime so there would be no one around to see him, dishevelled and exhausted as he was.  Once he'd cleaned himself up a little he'd go and see if he could find her.  The thought of seeing her cheered him up immensely and there was almost a spring in his step as he went to the door, deftly unlocking it and stepping out into the corridor.  Luckily he was able to stop himself just before he crashed headlong into the figure that stood waiting nervously outside, one hand raised ready to knock.

"Minerva?" he said, when he'd managed to catch his breath.  

"I know," she apologised hastily.  "You didn't want me to see you.  I was just worried.  I wanted to make sure you were all right."

There was such concern in her voice that he forgave her instantly.  Pulling her into his arms he hugged her close, pressing his face into her hair and inhaling its soft scent.  

"It's ok," he said.  "Everything's fine."

And he really meant it.

* * * * *

Later that night, Remus lay awake.  Though the moon was no longer full, it still shone with a surprising strength.  Silvery rays slipped through a gap in the curtains and fell in a narrow beam across the floor.  There was something so pure and beautiful about the moonlight that for a moment Remus was able to forget that the shining orb was his enemy.  He realised something then that surprised him: the fierce hatred that had possessed him so strongly in the past was waning now along with the moon itself, and not just because of the potion.

The main reason for this sudden change of heart slept peacefully in his arms, her head rested against his shoulder, her dark hair a startling contrast against the crisp white sheets.  Minerva had taken good care of him, hustling him straight into a warm bath and then gently massaging his aching limbs, slowly easing the tension away with her tender hands.  He didn't know what she'd put in the water but it had made his eyelids droop heavily and he'd spent the rest of the evening dozing quietly on her sofa.  She'd gone downstairs for dinner so as not to arouse suspicion, though her reluctance to leave him had been obvious.  She'd returned an hour or so later, coming straight to where he lay and kissing him with such desire that he'd found himself instantly aroused.  They'd gone straight to bed and made gentle, passionate love.  That, combined with the effort of worrying about him all day, had exhausted Minerva and she'd quickly drifted off to sleep, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

He let his mind wander back to earlier in the afternoon.  The image of her concerned face as she met him outside his office was fixed in his head.  No fear or revulsion in her worried gaze, just concern, affection… and love?  It was hard to believe that such a thing could be true.  He'd never allowed a woman to get close to him before, unable to bear the inevitable rejection when they discovered his shameful secret.  His few close friends had tried to convince him that it wouldn't make any difference and that he would find someone who would love him and accept him as they had, but their reassurance had fallen on deaf ears.  Remus had cut himself off, reconciled to the fact that he was destined to be alone.  And now, in a few short days, Minerva McGonagall had managed to turn his entire world upside down.  What he'd thought would be a one-night stand or a brief, inconsequential fling at most had turned into something so intense that it overwhelmed him and yet made him feel calm and grounded for the first time in his life.  Remus tightened his arms around her and vowed to protect her no matter what.

* * * * *

After that first transformation the days slipped past surprisingly quickly.  Minerva's position as Head of Gryffindor House meant that she couldn't be too far away from her charges and her rooms were therefore just beneath the Gryffindor Common Room, though protected by a one-way silencing charm perfected by Filius Flitwick and gratefully copied by Minerva.  Most of the time the noise from upstairs was little more than a faint murmur of voices - too soft to discern the topic of normal conversation but loud enough so that any disturbance could be quickly heard and investigated.  Because of this, they spent most of their time in her quarters rather than his.  Remus was not in the least bit bothered by this: on the contrary, his rooms seemed bare and empty compared to the comfortable home that Minerva had established for herself.  He returned to them only to fetch the occasional book or article of clothing.  

During the day they steered clear of each other, sitting separately at meal times and limiting their conversation to polite small talk.  Usually they spent their evenings together – talking, reading or quietly marking the homework from their respective classes.  Minerva had finally persuaded him into a game of chess and unsurprisingly he had lost; since then she'd been teaching him, pleased to share her skills.  On a couple of occasions they had risked taking a walk together across the grounds, careful all the while not to give any impression other than that of two colleagues enjoying the evening air together.  

Their relationship aside, Remus was surprised by how much he was enjoying teaching.  He'd taken the job for several reasons: a desire to look out for Harry, a decent wage at last, the promise of the Wolfsbane Potion… and a chance to repay the debt he owed Dumbledore for allowing him an education at Hogwarts all those years ago.  He had the necessary knowledge from his own research – how hard could it be?  He'd been a lot more nervous as term approached but had settled quickly into his new post.  His students had for the most part been keen and interested in what he had to say, and although one or two of the staff avoided him, the majority were polite if not overly friendly.  Determined to prove his ability, Remus took great care in preparing his lesson plans and marking the homework he'd set, often giving up part of his weekend to do so. 

On the Saturday of Halloween he was in his office earlier than usual, owing to the fact that Minerva was busy supervising the decorating of the Great Hall ready for the evening's feast.  The castle seemed strangely quiet with most of the upper years absent and Remus wedged the office door open to allow the fresh air in, knowing that there was little chance of him being disturbed.  But he'd barely opened his books when a familiar dark haired figure wandered past.

"Harry?"

Remus got to his feet and peered around the open door.  Harry Potter stared back at him looking uncharacteristically miserable.  There was no sign of any of his friends, which was surprising since Remus rarely saw Harry on his own.

"What are you doing?" he asked.  "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"Hogsmeade," Harry said, and there were distinct tones of unhappiness in his voice.  

Immediately Remus understood the reason for Harry's bad mood.  Minerva had told him about Harry's request to be allowed to go to Hogsmeade and how she had used the lack of a permission slip as an excuse to forbid him from going.  She'd actually felt quite bad about it, which was surprising considering how strict she usually was when enforcing the rules.  

Looking at Harry now, Remus felt quite sympathetic towards the poor boy and invited him in for tea.  He remembered Hogsmeade trips from his own schooldays and how exciting it had been when they reached the third year and finally were allowed the privilege of visiting the village.  

As they sat and drank their tea, Harry seemed strangely distracted.  

"Anything worrying you, Harry?" Remus asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"No," Harry said, but then a moment later he changed his mind.  "Yes.  You know that day we fought the Boggart?"

Remus felt his heart sink.  He'd hoped none of the class had noticed the form that the Boggart had taken on when Remus himself had faced it, or if they had, that they wouldn't appreciate it's significance.  Obviously he'd misjudged them.

"Yes," he said slowly.

"Why didn't you let me fight it?"

It wasn't the reply Remus had expected.  Relief cascaded through his veins as he explained his reasoning to Harry.  His words seemed to have lifted a weight off the boy's shoulders – Harry was looking almost as relieved as Remus felt – but just as he began to probe further there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Come in," he called loudly, thinking it was Minerva, or perhaps another student with a question about homework.  But when the door swung open it was Severus Snape that stood there, holding in his hand a goblet full of Wolfsbane Potion.

Remus was slightly taken aback.  Severus had never before bothered to bring the potion to him.  Normally he settled for shouting across the floo network for Remus to come down and collect it from his office.   

"Ah, Severus.  Thanks very much.  Could you leave it here on the desk for me?"

There was a strange glint in Snape's eye.  He looks like he wants to say something, Remus thought, but what?  

Snape glanced across at Harry, clearly uncomfortable in the boy's presence.

"I was just showing Harry my Grindylow," Remus explained, attempting to lighten the mood.

"Fascinating.  You should drink that directly Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will."

"I made an entire cauldronfull.  If you need more."

"I should probably take some again tomorrow.  Thanks very much, Severus."

"Not at all."

Distracted by Snape's uncharacteristic concern, Remus was barely listening to what Harry was saying.  He drank the Wolfsbane potion hurriedly and then excused himself.  He was certain that Snape had come up for a reason but what?  Perhaps Harry's presence had made him uncomfortable.  After all, Snape would be expecting all the students to be at Hogsmeade.  Why would he bring the potion up now when no one was around to see, and perhaps guess what was going on?  It didn't make sense.  Remus shrugged and returned to his lesson plans.  Whatever Snape had to say, he'd find out soon enough.

* * * * *

The Halloween Feast was as spectacular as those Remus remembered from his own schooldays.  He ate heartily and chatted to Filius Flitwick through most of the meal.  The tiny wizard was delighted to learn more about the research Remus had been doing at the Ministry and keen to share some discoveries of his own, most notably the charms he had used on the Halloween decorations, an achievement he was deservedly proud of.  Remus saw Harry amongst his friends on the Gryffindor table and was pleased to see that the boy was looking much happier than he had earlier that afternoon.  When the feast was over he waited just outside for Minerva, who was busy shooing the last few students out of the hall and up to bed.  A moment later she joined him and they made their way upstairs.

"Severus came to see me this afternoon," Remus said.  "He brought me my potion."

"Really?  Are you sure he didn't poison it?"  

He knew she was teasing but still there was an element of truth in her words.

"He really hates me, doesn't he?" he said sadly, wishing there was something he could do, some way he could persuade the man to trust him.  "I got the distinct impression he wanted to talk to me about something," Remus continued.  "But Harry was there and put him off."

"Don't let him upset you," Minerva said.  "I expect he just wanted to remind you that he's watching you."

"No, I think there was more to it than that."

They reached the tapestry that hid the entrance to Minerva's rooms.  Overhead they could hear faint footsteps and voices chattering excitedly as the Gryffindor students returned to their tower.

"Well, I think there are better things we could be doing than worrying about what Severus is up to."  Minerva smiled and then kissed him, placing her hands on his shoulders as she did so in order to draw him closer.

Remus laughed.  "You're insatiable," he teased.

She raised an eyebrow mischievously but before she could say anything in reply sudden footsteps echoed down the corridor towards them.  Hastily they released their hold on each other.  Remus turned just in time to see Severus Snape appear around the corner, his expression drawn into a twisted triumphant smirk.  Beside him Minerva stiffened noticeably.

"Severus," she said curtly.

"Minerva," he replied.  "And Remus… what an interesting surprise.  I wasn't aware you had rooms in this part of the castle."

Minerva gave him a cold stare.  "Remus was joining me for coffee.  I hardly think that's a crime."

Before Snape could respond there was a sudden silence up above them and a voice called loudly: "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore.  Quick!"

The three of them stared at each other.  Then Severus turned to hurry upstairs, pulling his wand from his robes as he ran.  "I'll talk to you later!" he shouted over his shoulder.  Minerva and Remus frowned at each other for a moment and then they, too, ran upstairs.  


	4. Confrontation

Chapter Four – Confrontation 

~

The dungeons at Hogwarts had their entrance through a dark stone archway off the bottom of the main staircase, an uninviting portal through which the wind whistled shrilly on stormy nights.  Most of the staff avoided going down those steps wherever possible, preferring to confine their activities to the warmth and light of the main castle.  Most of the staff, but not Severus Snape.

As she strode swiftly down the narrow corridors, Minerva wondered again what on earth it was that possessed her colleague to make his home in this cold, unfeeling dungeon.  She knew little of Severus' past, only that he had been a supporter of Voldemort until turning spy for Dumbledore, who had since protected him at Hogwarts.  He never spoke of his childhood or youth, or how he came to be a death eater, obviously preferring to keep such matters private.  Perhaps he had told Dumbledore more, but all Minerva knew was that he was an only child and both his parents were dead.  

The staccato tap of her heels rang out loudly as she walked, echoing along the passageway.  Curious Slytherin students turned to look at her, unused to seeing the Deputy Headmistress in this part of the castle and wondering who was in trouble.  Minerva did not notice, however: her thoughts had drifted back to the previous week and the attack by Sirius Black on Gryffindor Tower, which had left her extremely shaken.  Over the years she'd got used to the idea of Hogwarts being a safe haven, impenetrable to enemies and dark forces alike.  Now she cursed her complacency.  Sirius Black had been in their midst and they hadn't even seen him.  Harry and his friends had a knack for turning up where they weren't supposed to be – what if they had decided to leave the feast early and go back to their common room?  Harry could have been murdered; right where he was supposed to be secure and protected.  Determined to prevent any such attack from happening again, Minerva had instructed her colleagues to keep a close eye on the boy.  She'd been uneasy about evening Quidditch practice but with Madam Hooch watching over the team he was probably safer on the pitch than in the castle.  Still, she hoped she'd done the right thing.  

The corridor widened out into a small hallway and she stopped abruptly.  Another passageway led off in the distance towards Slytherin house, and a door just a few feet beyond opened into the potions classroom.  The entrance Minerva was interested in was right next to her: dark wood with intricately carved serpents and a nameplate that read "Professor Severus Snape".  Severus rarely ate lunch in the Great Hall with everyone else and Minerva was almost certain she'd find him here.

She knocked sharply, and a moment later the door creaked open.  Severus peered at her from within, his lank, dark hair framing a sallow face and dark eyes that stared at her with interest.

"Well, well," he sneered.  "Minerva.  What a pleasant surprise."

It was clear that he was going to enjoy this and Minerva suppressed a shudder.  

"I think we need to have a little talk," she said calmly.

He stared at her a moment longer and then shrugged, pulling the door wide open to reveal his office.  The fire had been lit but was burning low, it's tentative flames reflected eerily by the glass jars stacked row upon row on the shelves above.  Minerva had been down here enough times to know that their gruesome contents served no useful purpose and instead existed solely as a means of unnerving visitors.  Ignoring them, she followed him down a few shallow steps and across to the far wall of the office where there was a stone pillar carved in a similar way to the door.  Severus muttered his password in a low tone and the pillar split slowly in two, each half sliding away until a large opening was revealed.  She followed him silently through into his living quarters, decorated in typical Slytherin style with black leather furniture and dark green hangings.  A cold draught accompanied them through, until the entrance snapped smartly shut behind them.

"You're sleeping with him, aren't you?" Severus said abruptly, before she had even sat down.

Minerva was taken aback.  

"That is none of your business!" she snapped, her cheeks blazing with anger.  

Severus merely shrugged.

"So what do you want from me?" he asked.

"Who says I want anything from you?"  She was still smarting from his previous question.

"Why would you be down here if you didn't?"

She couldn't find an easy response to this.  Instead she took a seat, aware of his gaze following her as she did so.  She'd thought she was prepared for whatever he could throw at her but instead he'd managed to wrong foot her right from the start of their conversation.  She'd met few people that her wit and intelligence could not better: he was one of those few.  And from the expression on his face, he knew it.  

"Why do you have it in for Remus?" she asked.

Severus raised his eyebrows.  "I should have thought that was obvious," he said patronisingly.  "His very presence here is a threat: to our safety, to the safety of the students.  To Harry."

At the mention of Harry's name her head shot up in surprise.

"Don't you dare-" she began angrily.

"Minerva, this may come as something of a shock to you but it does bother me to think that we might find our little superstar murdered in his bed."

"You're the one making his potion.  You of all people should know he's safe."

"I'm not talking about his… condition," he sneered.  "I'm talking about who he's friends with.  But you're right, that is also a concern."

"Remus has not been a friend of Sirius Black for twelve years!" Minerva protested.

"Oh, come on, Minerva.  It's too much of a coincidence: Black escapes from Azkaban – the first ever to do so, I might add – and then his best friend gets a job at Hogwarts – the very place where Black's sworn enemy Harry Potter is at school.  How can you tell me that's just chance?"

Minerva took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down.  Losing her temper would only make things worse.

"Albus trusts him," she said quietly.  "That should be good enough for all of us."

"Albus is wrong."  His tone was stubborn and he stared unflinchingly across at her.

"He wasn't wrong about you," Minerva replied, meeting his gaze.  Her words hit their intended target: there was a sudden flash of rage in Severus' dark eyes.  He leant forward and opened his mouth to argue but she continued before he had a chance to speak.  

"Remember when everyone said he was crazy for trusting you?  For giving you a chance?  Don't you think Remus should have a chance too?"

Her words echoed loudly in the ensuing silence.  Severus leapt to his feet and strode over to where she sat, leaning close.  

"This is different!" he hissed angrily, his fists clenched.  His face was purple with rage and Minerva knew she'd hit a nerve.  Determined not to let him intimidate her, she stood, pushing him out of her way as she did so.  They faced each other in the middle of the living room, neither willing to back down.

"How is this different?"   

"Because I wasn't best friends with a convicted murderer!" Severus shouted.  "Because I was in fear of my life and needed protection!  Because I had information that could help!  None of which applies to Remus bloody Lupin!"  He spat the name at her derisively, unwilling and unable to see any sense in her argument.  

Minerva sighed in frustration and turned away, facing his bookcase and studying the volumes it held in an attempt to calm herself down.  Reflected in its glass front she saw him stalk back to his armchair and throw himself heavily into it.  

"Isn't it better if he's with me?" she said eventually.  "I would know if he was up to anything, if he was sneaking out of the castle at night."

"So you are sleeping with him."

She didn't speak but her back went rigid and she closed her eyes, cursing herself for not seeing it coming.  She didn't need to look in the glass to see the look of smug satisfaction she knew he would be wearing: she could see it perfectly clearly in her head.  She could feel their confrontation slipping further and further from her control and she was powerless to stop it.  She'd used every argument she had now: soon she would have to admit defeat and walk away.  He'd win and he'd never let her forget it.

"Love is blind, Minerva," he said, interrupting her reverie.  His tone wasn't as harsh as before but there was still an edge to it.  "Would you trust him so much if he wasn't your lover?"

Would I still trust him?  Minerva considered the question for a moment and then realised she already knew the answer.

"Yes," she said softly, and meant it.  Turning to face him she continued: "Severus, please don't say anything."

"Why should I keep your dirty little secret?" he sneered.  "How am I to know he hasn't placed you under the Imperius curse."

"Don't be so stupid!"  Minerva took a deep breath.  "Please.  If not for him then for me.  If anything happens that makes you suspect him more then you can go to Albus."

"Albus should know now," he said stubbornly.  "He's always been honest with you, hasn't he?"

"Yes," she admitted, defeated at last.  "You're right.  I will talk to Albus."

She got to her feet, unwilling to stay any longer than was necessary.  Just as she was moving towards the door he called her back.

"I won't say anything," he said slowly.

"What?" she said in surprise.

"Provided you tell Albus.  And as long as he stays out of trouble."  He held her gaze until he was sure that she knew he was serious.

"Thank you."  

He called out the password and the entrance from his office reopened for her to leave. 

"Be careful," he called as she left.  "We still don't know how Black got past the Dementors." 

Minerva hurried back upstairs as quickly as she could, partly because she was hungry and partly because she feared that the potions master would call her back at any moment to tell her he'd changed his mind.  Remus had warned her off going to see Severus, knowing the man too well from his own schooldays to expect him to be understanding now.  But Minerva had been determined to try.  She and Severus had been colleagues for almost two decades now but had never had much to do with each other.  In attitude, interests and upbringing they were entirely different people, too different to find any common ground upon which to build a relationship.  But just as friendship between them had never blossomed, neither had any kind of hatred.  Indeed, despite the rivalry between their two houses, Minerva believed he had a grudging respect for her, as she did for him.  Now she had been proved right, but nevertheless it was a fragile bond and one she did not want to test further.  

* * * * *

With half an hour of her lunch break remaining, Minerva ducked into the Great Hall for a quick sandwich and then headed upstairs to her small but comfortable office intent on spending her remaining time making a start on the homework essays she still had to mark.  Normally they would have been done by now – in fact, she had started work on them two nights ago, only to be distracted again by Remus who had persuaded her to take a late night boat ride with him.  It had been worth it: the rain had stopped briefly leaving a clear starlight night and the lake was calm and peaceful, reflecting spectacularly the castle towering above.  Nevertheless, the work still waited to be done and she was determined to finish it today.  Reaching the first floor she turned down the corridor that led to her office only to find Remus stood waiting by the door.  Quickly she filled him in on her conversation with Severus, finishing with what he'd said about Black escaping capture by the Dementors.  Despite the good news that their colleague was not going to cause trouble for them after all, Remus seemed worried and strangely distracted.

"How do you think he made it past them?" he asked abruptly, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.

"Who knows," Minerva said slowly.  "Dark magic, I expect.  There are one or two spells that can be used.  I wouldn't be surprised if You-Know-Who taught him a trick or two."

"You mean Voldemort," Remus said softly.  "You can't still be afraid to say his name, surely?"

She smiled apologetically.  "No, it's just a habit.  I'm afraid I'll be careless and say Voldemort in front of the students, so I try not to say it at all.  Anyway, Sirius evaded the Dementors to escape from Azkaban so we shouldn't really be surprised that he's managed to do it again."

Remus considered this for a moment and then nodded.

"Anyway, I just wanted to say good night."  He gestured briefly at the sky to indicate that it was full moon, not that Minerva needed reminding.

"Don't you have a class to teach this afternoon?" she asked.

"No, Severus is going to cover it.  It gets dark so early now – I don't want to take any unnecessary risks."

He tilted her head gently back with one hand and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

She watched him walk away, torn between calling him back for another kiss and letting him go so that she could concentrate on her work.  Finally duty won out, but it was too late.  Before she could unlock the door to her office the bell rang to signal the start of afternoon lessons.  Quickly she gathered her things together and left.

* * * * *

Minerva's only class on Thursday afternoons were the first year Hufflepuff students: an exceptionally well behaved group, in contrast to the somewhat over-excitable Gryffindors she had taught that morning, and the sullen Slytherin class that tended to scowl malevolently if admonished for the slightest thing.  Teaching came instinctively to her and the hour-long lesson seemed only to last a very short time.  Once she had restored a selection of attractive and not-so-attractive vases back into plain glass bottles ready for the next day, she returned to her office.  This time there was no one waiting to interrupt her and she settled herself gratefully behind her desk and begun marking the pile of homework.  For an hour and a half she worked without pausing, lost in concentration.  Then the twilight descended and the office grew gradually darker until she could no longer see to read the parchments in front of her.  The darkness made her remember Remus.  He'd seemed very tense when she'd spoken to him earlier but perhaps it was just the thought of transforming that had him so unsettled.  She knew he was upset about last weekend's incident with Sirius Black as well, understandably since Black had once been his friend.  Severus Snape's earlier words found their way uninvited into her head but she pushed them angrily aside, completely certain that Remus would never knowingly let Harry be harmed.  Before such thoughts could trouble her further she decided to make the short walk down to the staff room for tea.  

The staff room was empty: typical, she thought, the one time I would really like to talk to someone and there's nobody here.  She wondered briefly where her colleagues were and then realised that most of them would still be teaching.  It wasn't quite four and most afternoon classes had yet to finish.  Minerva cursed her lack of foresight and went instead to make herself a cup of camomile tea by the muggle method, only using magic to instantly boil the water.  It never tasted the same when conjured out of thin air, no matter how many times she'd tried.  She left the cup a while for the flavour to infuse, thinking all the while of her absent lover.  She missed Remus already, feeling as if there was an empty space by her side.  It wasn't so much that he wasn't there with her; it was more the fact that she could not reach him if she needed him.  The earlier argument with Severus had left her feeling unsettled and she wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with Remus, to feel his arms around her and know that it didn't really matter what Severus or anyone else thought.  Then she thought of Xiomara Hooch and all the others she knew who'd lost partners and husbands in the war against Voldemort.  Suddenly she felt very selfish.  At least you know he's coming back, she reminded herself.  Shouldn't that be enough?

Minerva took her cup and went to sit down, but just as she took her first sip, the door suddenly opened and Albus Dumbledore appeared, looking surprised to see her.

"I wasn't expecting to find you in here, my dear."  He hesitated for a moment in the doorway and then seemed to come to a decision: leaving the door to slam loudly behind him he took a seat opposite her.  Unlike Minerva he was not a tea connoisseur and simply conjured a mug of coffee from thin air.

"I was just taking a quick break," Minerva explained, and he nodded approvingly.

"Good.  You seem happier lately," he added kindly.  "I hope this means you've finally taken my advice and started to relax a little."  

I should tell him, she thought.  I promised Severus I would.  I should tell him now while it's just the two of us here.  She opened her mouth to speak but could not find adequate words to explain her relationship with Remus.  Before she could agonise further, Albus broke the silence, almost as if he had read her mind.

"I saw Remus upstairs.  I gather it's the full moon tonight."  

Minerva could detect no underlying meaning in his voice, only honest concern.

"Yes… yes it is."

Unable to meet his gaze she stared out of the window.  This was a mistake: the sight of the dusky evening sky only reminded her of Remus again… and made her feel even more guilty for lying to a man she respected and trusted, and who valued honesty above all else.

"In fact, that reminds me," Albus continued.  "Severus has taken the third year Defence Against the Dark Arts class this afternoon on very short notice, but on the condition that he does not have to teach any of Remus' lessons tomorrow.  Would you be willing to take on an extra class?  I know it means a full day for you and I don't want to put you under too much pressure but…"

"Not at all, Albus.  It's fine."  She did her best to smile reassuringly at him.  "Honestly, I'd be happy to."

"Well, if you're sure."  

Albus finished his coffee and with a snap of his fingers the mug vanished back to wherever it was it had come from.  Still he lingered, giving Minerva the horrible feeling that he knew more than he was letting on.  But despite this, despite everything, she could not bring herself to tell him the truth.  Albus paused a moment longer and then excused himself, leaving Minerva alone in front of the fire.  

"Gryffindors are brave…" she whispered to herself, but for the first time in her life the sentiment failed her.  In the past she had stood up to dark wizards and unruly pupils alike but tonight her courage had vanished.  

Why was she finding such a simple thing so hard to do?  

She knew that if she broke her half of the bargain she'd made with Severus then he would not hesitate to do the same.  

I will tell him tomorrow, she decided.  And this time I will not fail.


	5. The Calm Before The Storm

Chapter Five – The Calm Before the Storm 

~

The weeks slipped quickly past and soon the end of term approached.  December brought even worse weather: by the Saturday of the Hogsmeade trip the rain had turned into thickly falling snow that coated the castle walls and turned the surrounding landscape magically white.  Once lunch was over the driveway was filled with students hurrying down to the village, taking care not to slip and wrapping their cloaks tightly around themselves to shield against the bitterly cold weather.

Remus was oblivious to the snow.  He'd taken over Minerva's polished mahogany desk, reasoning that since her living room was warmer than his office he would stand more chance of getting some work done.  The fact that he'd also been able to watch Minerva undressing for her bath had, he told himself, absolutely nothing to do with it.  Nevertheless, he hadn't been able to stop himself from enjoying the view, until eventually she'd shut the door on him firmly, knowing as well as he did that it was the only way he'd get anything finished.  Now he was leafing through his completed lesson plans for the spring term, feeling very satisfied with what he'd achieved.  He tucked them neatly into a folder, and then found at the bottom of the pile an unfamiliar parchment.  For a moment he stared at it in confusion, until he read the title and realised what he was looking at.  It was Hermione Granger's werewolf essay.

Remus had thought his relationship with Severus could not deteriorate any further but his return to lessons that Monday afternoon had quickly changed his mind.  Remus had no patience for underhand tactics but that was exactly what Snape had used in his absence.  As well as doing his best to intimidate and upset the entire class - a class whose interest Remus had worked hard to build - he had also set an essay that deliberately threatened Remus.  It had been lucky that Snape had insisted a rather excessive two rolls of parchment.  The Gryffindor third years had been horrified and it had been easy for Remus to prevent them doing the work.  All that was, except Hermione.  

Reading her essay now, Remus couldn't help but be impressed by the amount of effort she'd put into the assignment.  All the relevant facts were there.  How could she possibly not have guessed?  Remus was certain she knew but he was just as sure that Harry did not.  He could only assume that Hermione had chosen to keep his secret, and his respect for the young witch increased tenfold.  She reminded him so much of Minerva at the same age: there was the same intensity about her, the same dedication to her studies.  The same respect for others.  The only thing Hermione didn't share was Minerva's shyness and that was probably a good thing.  Remus was glad that she was Harry's friend.  

Deciding a break was in order, he conjured up a mug of warm butterbeer and strolled over to Minerva's somewhat threadbare but extremely comfortable sofa.  He hoped Harry was feeling at least a little better now.  His injury and the loss of his broom after last month's Quidditch game had clearly demoralised the boy but unsurprisingly it was the Dementors that bothered him the most.  Remus had seen for himself the effect that the Dementors had had on Harry but it wasn't until Harry told him what he'd heard in his head that Remus truly understood the anguish that the boy was suffering.  To know that your parents had been brutally murdered was bad enough: to hear their tragic deaths over and over in your mind must be a living nightmare.  Remus wasn't certain that Harry would be able to master the Patronus spell but knowing what he knew now it had to be worth a try.

The bathroom door opened and Minerva emerged wearing only her tartan dressing gown.  

"About time!" Remus teased.  

Minerva had yet to master the art of a quick bath, insisting as she did on a favourite novel, a glass of wine and at least an hour to relax.  Now her cheeks were flushed from the heat and the alcohol and her hair fell loose over her shoulders, the way Remus liked it best.  She smiled at him and he felt a sudden surge of arousal swirl through his veins.

"Have you finished your lesson plans?" she asked, ignoring his previous remark.

Remus gestured to her desk.

"All ready," he said, knowing she would go and check.  As she passed him he wrapped an arm around her waist and she gasped in surprise as she found herself falling into his lap.  

"You smell nice," he murmured approvingly, pulling her even closer and gently nuzzling her neck.  She'd poured something deliciously scented into her bath and the fragrance had filled the room; now it lingered still on her skin.  Remus inhaled deeply, wondering for the hundredth time what he'd done to deserve the love of a woman like her.  He planted tender kisses down her neck, loosening the belt of her robe and pushing the cloth down off her shoulders.

"Remus, I have to go…" she protested weakly, but she did not push him away.  He ran his hand down the side of her body to gently caress her breast and she moaned softly.

"Remus…" Minerva whispered again, and there was such desire in her voice that he wasn't sure if she wanted him to stop or to continue.  Then she sighed and relaxed against him, lifting his head with her hands so that she could kiss him properly, sliding her tongue against his lips until he parted them at last.  She took the lead as they fell back onto the sofa, straddling his hips and gently rocking her pelvis, her breathing growing heavier by the minute.  Soon Remus could take no more of her teasing and he quickly removed his shirt and then the remainder of his clothing.  Her dressing gown joined the pile of his clothing on the floor, then suddenly sensation overwhelmed him and he could think no more.  

No sooner was their passion spent than Minerva disentangled herself from him and went to get dressed.  Remus protested loudly but to no avail: once more the door was closed in his face.  It was another fifteen minutes before Minerva reappeared and this time she was fully clothed in thick winter robes, her hair restored to its customary bun.  

"Don't go."  Remus grinned in what he hoped was an appealing way.

"I have to.  Cornelius will be waiting for me.  But you can come with us if you like."  

He watched her retrieve her hat and cloak from where they hung.  As much as he would miss her, Remus was unwilling to brave the cold weather just to listen to Cornelius Fudge blather on about the Ministry.  He'd had enough of that when he'd been working in London.

"No, I'll see you later."

"If you're sure."  

She gave him one last kiss and then reluctantly turned and left.  Remus knew she had still not told Dumbledore the truth about their relationship.  He couldn't understand why not: Minerva had always had a close friendship with Albus, the older man being something of a mentor to her throughout her career.  She often spoke of the help and support he had given her – why couldn't she confide in him now?  After all, it wasn't as if they were doing anything wrong.  But then Remus remembered the secret he was keeping from both Minerva and Albus: his knowledge of Sirius Black's animagus ability.  He hadn't told either of them because he was ashamed of how he had abused their trust in his schooldays and because he valued Albus' trust and Minerva's love and didn't want to risk losing them.  Even though he knew that the right thing to do was tell the truth, it was a difficult decision to face.  After the attack on Gryffindor Tower he had wrestled with his conscience for most of the week but then Minerva had reassured him with her talk about dark magic.  Surely she was right – if being an animagus was all it took to escape Azkaban wouldn't others have broken out before now?  Sirius, James and Peter could not have been the only unregistered animagi by any stretch of the imagination.  He'd resolved to stop brooding on it and had turned his attention to Minerva instead.  Now that she was no longer here to distract him, Remus swallowed the remainder of his butterbeer then went to have a wash and change for dinner.

An hour later - after a quick bath and a trip to the owlery to order a Bundimun for one of his classes – Remus entered the Great Hall.  Despite his early arrival and the fact that many of the students had not yet returned from the village, the hall was busier than he had expected.  As well as first and second years, a fair number of the older students were present, obviously having decided that it was not worth braving the weather just to go to Hogsmeade.  In contrast the staff table was almost empty since most of the senior staff were dining privately with Dumbledore and Cornelius Fudge.  Only Severus Snape remained.  He hated doing dinner duty and was eyeing the hall like a wrathful eagle, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble.  Consequently the atmosphere was somewhat subdued.  Nobody wanted to catch the attention of the bad tempered potions master and Remus could easily understand why.  Unwilling to join Severus, he hesitated for a moment in the doorway and then noticed his first year Gryffindors waving enthusiastically for him to sit with them.  Deciding this would be vastly preferable he did so, and entertained them throughout their meal with tales of runespoors, quintapeds and other enthralling creatures he'd seen and worked with – causing a few of the more weak-stomached students to retreat to the other end of the table by the time he'd finished.  All the while he was aware of Severus' dark stare boring into his back.  He knew that the potions master would be enraged that Remus had chosen the company of the students rather than sit with him but he didn't care.  

Remus finished his meal and lingered in the Great Hall for a while before making his way up to the library to peruse the most recent wizarding journals.  In his previous – but extremely poorly paid - job at the Ministry of Magic he had been at the forefront of magical research and he still enjoyed keeping up with the latest developments.  He found a comfortable armchair and gathered copies of the J.I.M.R. (Journal of the Institute for Magical Research), Enervate, Transfiguration Today and Modern Wizarding.  Remus immersed himself in his reading and didn't notice the hours slipping rapidly past until Madam Pince tapped him politely on the shoulder to say the library was closing and unless Remus wanted to spend the night could he please leave now.  

Upstairs he found Minerva who looked rather relieved to see him.  

"Did you have a nice afternoon?" he asked.

"Not really."  

A shadow crossed her face and she turned away abruptly to stare at the photographs on her mantelpiece.  For a moment it seemed as if she was ignoring him but Remus remained silent, waiting for her to tell him what was bothering her.

"Fudge was only interested in talking about Black," she said eventually.  "And then Rosmerta wanted to know the whole story.  It made me remember Peter.  The poor boy - he didn't stand a chance against Black but he wouldn't give up."

She turned back to face Remus and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes.  For a moment he was shocked: he'd never seen Minerva cry before.  Normally she maintained a strong, confident exterior without even the slightest hint of weakness.  Quickly he shepherded her over to an armchair and sat her down, glad that she felt able to share her worries with him.

"It wasn't your fault," he said softly, placing one arm around her shoulders for reassurance.

"No, but I was never very kind to him at school.  I took ten points off him once just because he was late for dinner." 

"You were Head Girl.  It was your job to make sure everyone behaved themselves."

"I know," she said, not sounding entirely convinced.  

She took a deep breath and tried to compose herself.  Remus watched her smile weakly at him and wished there was more he could do to reassure her.  He leant forward to wipe away the tears from her cheeks and then softly kissed her forehead, lifting her glasses from her face and placing them carefully to one side.  It didn't look right to him to see her like this: the scraped back hair and spectacles belonged to the strict, sensible Transfiguration Professor that the rest of the school knew: not the caring and passionate lover he adored with all his heart.  With his hands he reached out to tease her hair from it's tight bun and Minerva closed her eyes as he removed the last few pins, leaving her hair to cascade down over her shoulders like a glossy black waterfall.  Then she reached out for him, resting her head on his shoulder as he embraced her protectively.  For a while they stayed like that, both enjoying the comfort it brought them and neither willing to break apart.  Remus listened to her soft breathing, knowing that the past would continue to haunt them until Sirius Black was safely back in Azkaban.  He hoped it would be sooner rather than later.  

"Thank you for understanding," she said at length.

Remus smiled in response and started to unbutton the high neck of her robes.  

"Come on, let's go to bed."  

He leaned forward to kiss her, determined not to let her regrets and his worries about Sirius come between them.  But before their lips could meet, Minerva placed her hands gently on his chest.

"Not that I'm complaining, Remus, but you're very affectionate all of a sudden.  Has Severus perhaps slipped a love potion into your butterbeer?"

"Hardly," Remus snorted, and then caught the twinkle in her eye and realised she was teasing.  "I just…"

"What?"  The smile vanished from her face at the serious tone in his voice and she studied him intently, obviously nervous of what he was about to say.

"Minerva…"  He took a deep breath.  "I never thought anything like this would ever happen to me but it has and I'm so glad because… well, being with you has changed my whole life.  I never knew why people talked so much about how love can change everything - I thought they were just idiots who didn't understand how much pain and suffering there is in the world.  But you understand and you're still…"

He stopped, lost for words.  He could see Minerva's eyes glistening once more with unshed tears and he hoped that this time it was not sorrow and regret, but rather happiness that had made her cry.

Seeing his hesitation she leant forward and took his hands in hers.

"Go on," she said gently.

Remus swallowed, realising at last what it was he wanted to say.

"Minerva… I love you.  I love you so much-"

The emotion overwhelmed him as his voice cracked and she silenced him with a kiss, furious and passionate until he was gasping for breath.  She buried her face in his neck and he could feel her tears damp against his skin.  

"What's wrong?"  Sudden concern was evident in his voice.

"Nothing," Minerva said firmly, and leaning close she whispered in his ear: "I love you too."

Happiness welled up in Remus' heart.  With one arm around her shoulders and the other beneath her knees he scooped her easily into his arms and carried her towards her bedroom, determined to show her exactly how strongly he felt.  Tomorrow they would go and see Albus together and tell him everything, and Remus would at last be free of his guilt.  Tomorrow…

* * * * *

The knock at the door was sharp and abrupt.  Remus was half asleep - his previous exertions having worn him out completely - and he felt a sudden coldness by his side as Minerva got up and pulled on her dressing gown.  Who on earth was it?  Minerva was rarely disturbed outside of working hours especially on a weekend: her dedication to her job and her willingness to support her colleagues meant that they respected her desire for peace and quiet and only called on her if absolutely necessary.  From Gryffindor House above them there was only silence.  Had someone been caught out of bed?  That must be it.  Remus sleepily pulled the quilt more closely around himself and rolled over, determined to ignore the voices from the living room and get some sleep.

"Severus, please.  It's late."

"Actually it's only nine o'clock.  Obviously dear Remus has exhausted you so much that you can no longer tell the time.  Or the truth."

"I haven't had a chance to-"

"Oh, don't make excuses Minerva.  You've had nearly a month.  You obviously have a problem with keeping your promises."

"Fine.  Tomorrow I'll-"

"No!  No 'tomorrow'.  You'll come with me now." 

"Severus-"

"Now!"

The sudden yell stirred Remus from his stupor at last.  Realising whom their unexpected visitor was he leapt of bed, pausing only to grab his discarded boxer shorts from the floor.

"Leave her alone," he shouted.

Severus spun round and stared at him, raising an eyebrow as he took in Remus' dishevelled and half naked appearance.  A nasty smirk played at the corners of his thin mouth.

"Ah, your knight in shining armour has arrived, my dear," he drawled.  Turning back to face Minerva he continued: "A pity, though, that he could not find his shining armour.  Or indeed anything other than his underpants."  

"Why don't you just leave us alone?" Remus demanded angrily. 

"Now, now.  What kind of welcome is that?"  Severus tutted in mock disapproval.  "Particularly after I kindly gave up my precious time to cover your class for you when you were… what is it you say?  Ah, yes: 'unwell'."  He leaned closer to Remus, obviously determined to intimidate him as much as he possibly could. 

"I don't want you near any of my classes ever again!" Remus shouted, utterly enraged by his colleague's behaviour.  He must have known they'd be in bed – why else would he bother them so late in the day?  To think he'd interrupted them as they made love would be the icing on the cake for Snape.  He hadn't – but how was he to know that?

"Scared they'll learn the truth, Lupin?" Severus snarled angrily, the twisted smile having now vanished.  "I would have thought you were far too busy playing around with your girlfriend to care about such trivial things as that."

It was too much for Remus.  Blinded by his rage he raised his fist, oblivious to Minerva screaming at him to stop.  One swift punch was all it took: Severus staggered backwards, his hands on his face.  Rivulets of blood trickled slowly between his fingers.  He'd been standing so close to Remus that he'd had no chance to duck out of the way.  Consequently he'd caught the full force of the blow. 

"You'll pay for this, Lupin!" he spat furiously, turning to leave.

Only then did Remus catch sight of the open doorway and the figure standing beyond, only then did he notice that Minerva had suddenly fallen silent and only then did he understand the reason why.  Severus, too, had realised and all three stood frozen like a bizarre tableau.  

Albus Dumbledore was watching them.  And this time there was no twinkle in his eyes.


	6. Repercussions

Chapter Six – Repercussions 

~

Early the following morning only a thin, wintry sunlight illuminated Dumbledore's office.  The snow still lay thickly on the ground making the morning appear brighter than it really was, and making the air outside bitterly cold, so cold that jagged patterns of frost covered the windows.  A heavy silence filled the room, punctuated only by the soft clicks and whirrs of the myriad of magical equipment that littered the office.  Minerva ignored the strange, spindly objects: she had had far too many meetings with Dumbledore in the past to find any interest in his collection now.  But when she stole a glance at Remus, she could see his eyes darting around the office in obvious fascination.  

They'd spoken very little that morning.  After the previous night's debacle - Albus had told them only that he would see them all in his office at eight the following day, before directing Severus towards the hospital wing - Minerva had returned to bed in silence leaving Remus alone in the living room to contemplate his actions.  She'd had little sleep, too worried about what was to come.  She'd found him asleep on the sofa the next morning and had shaken him awake.  The dark shadows under his eyes mirrored her own.  She was surprised by how tired she felt: it was as if someone had placed an invisible blanket over her shoulders, weighing her limbs down.  She'd only ever felt like this before on the rare occasions that she had resorted to a drowsiness charm to help her sleep.  Now she was under no such spell yet could barely keep her eyes open. 

Just as she stifled a yawn the door clicked open abruptly and Albus stepped into the room.  There was no twinkle in his eye as he sat down heavily behind his desk.  Instead he regarded the pair of them with a sombre stare.

"Madam Pomfrey has kept Severus in the hospital wing overnight.  He will not be joining us this morning."

His gaze fell on Remus.

"Violence from anyone - be it student or staff - will not be tolerated in this school.  Remus, you have disgraced yourself."

"Albus-" Minerva began, but he waved her back into silence.  Beside her Remus bowed his head in acknowledgement of his shame.

"I am aware, however, that Severus can be…. provocative.  I am not condoning your behaviour in any way but I would like you to tell me truthfully how both you and Severus came to be in Minerva's living room last night and how this situation arose."

Remus was hesitant as he described his first meeting with Minerva and how they had talked about the past they shared.  He left out only how the evening had ended, making it sound as if they had barely even kissed that night.  As he spoke he reached out almost subconsciously to cover her hand with his.  For a moment Minerva considered pushing him away but the tenderness in his voice as he spoke about her changed her mind and instead she gently squeezed his hand to reassure him.  Remus continued to speak, his voice growing steadily stronger as he explained how Minerva had taken care of him during his transformations, how they had spent most of their evenings together and realised they were falling in love. And then his eyes darkened as he told how Severus had done his utmost to make Remus uncomfortable since his arrival at Hogwarts, interfering with his relationships and upsetting his classes. 

Albus listened in silence until Remus was finally finished.

"I see," he said eventually.  "Minerva, is this a fair account of what happened?"

Minerva nodded.

"Remus, I agree that Severus has not behaved honourably but I am extremely disappointed that you chose to take matters into your own hands rather than approach me with your concerns.  This is a difficult enough time for Hogwarts as it is.  I do not need any further aggravation."

The thinly veiled reference to Sirius Black seemed to have struck a chord with Remus.

"I'm sorry," he said, obvious regret in his voice.  "I was wrong to hit Severus."

Seeing the anguish on the younger man's face, Dumbledore sighed.  

"Do not be too hard on yourself, Remus.  You have shown a real flair for teaching and up until now it has been a pleasure to have you on the staff."  

Remus sighed heavily.

"I have every confidence in your ability to redeem yourself.  I would like you to begin by apologising to Severus.  I know this will not be easy for you, Remus."

"I… I will do it."

"Severus will apologise to you.  And I expect both of you to do whatever is necessary to keep your relationship on a professional and courteous level."

Remus nodded, though distaste was obvious in his eyes.  

"And now, please excuse us.  I would like to speak with Minerva, if I may."

Remus reluctantly got to his feet.  It was clear he didn't want to leave Minerva but Dumbledore was adamant.  He left the room without saying another word.  

Albus waited until the door clicked shut before turning back to face Minerva.  Immediately she was struck by the change in his expression: the frown had vanished and the sparkle had returned to his eyes.

"How do you feel, my dear?"

His question took Minerva by surprise, since she'd been expecting him to admonish her further.  

"How do you mean?"

Albus gave her a fatherly smile.

"I could tell there was something going on, you know.  Oh, I didn't know it was Remus, but there's been a difference in you lately.  A good difference."

He got to his feet and ambled over to stare out of the window.

"That's why I was surprised when you were so quiet at dinner.  I came up to make sure you were all right."

His concern touched Minerva deeply and instinctively she placed her hand on his arm.  

"You shouldn't feel guilty about being happy, Minerva," he continued.  "Although it is unfortunate that we are not having this conversation under more pleasant circumstances."

Minerva sighed.  

"I know.  I should have told you sooner, Albus."

"What was it that made you feel you couldn't tell me?"

There was a distinct note of sadness in his voice that Minerva had never heard before.  She knew Albus was usually very adept at hiding his emotions, a necessary quality when you had to deal with morons like Cornelius Fudge.  Glancing across the room she saw Fawkes sat quietly on his golden perch.  He, too, looked unusually morose.  Guilt welled up in Minerva's heart.  I caused this, she thought.  And I don't even know why.

"I wanted to tell you," she said aloud.  "I don't know why I couldn't.  I was… worried, I suppose.  You know how highly I think of you, Albus.  I didn't want you to see me as unprofessional."

He laughed dryly.

"My dear Minerva.  Nobody could ever accuse you of being unprofessional.  Is that really all?"

Unwilling to face up to her deepest feelings, Minerva got to her feet and stepped slowly across the office, stopping to study the paintings on the wall though her mind was far away.  Albus sat patiently.  When she eventually spoke it was with reluctance.

"I was afraid you wouldn't approve… because it was Remus."  Her words, the deepest, darkest truth she held.

"Why not Remus?" Albus prompted gently.

Minerva turned round to face him.

"Oh, I don't know, Albus!  Maybe because he's a werewolf?  Maybe because he's not exactly the type to want to settle down and start a family?  Maybe because you'll think I deserve better?" 

Albus was quiet for a moment.

"Do you think you deserve better?"

"No!" she said without hesitating.  "He's been wonderful to me."

"Do you love him?"

"Yes, very much."

"Then why all the doubt, my dear?"

Minerva sighed heavily and sat back down.

"I don't know," she said, frustration evident in her voice.  "Perhaps what Severus said made me worry."

"The dislike that Severus has for Remus is from way back – as you of all people should know – and he is not what I would call an unbiased judge of character.  I trust Remus.  Is that not enough for you?"

"That's exactly what I said to Severus," she admitted, her mind flashing back to her rather heated exchange with Severus.  It seemed so long ago, but she remembered the conviction with which she'd defended Remus.  Her words then contrasted sharply with what she was saying now and she felt a sudden flush of shame surge through her.

"He is a very complex man," Albus conceded.  "But then I can't imagine you'd settle for anything less.   Minerva, I've known you since you were born and your parents before then.  If your mother and father were alive today they would only want you to be happy, as do I.  If you truly love Remus, it can only be a good thing.  For both of you."

* * * * *

She eventually found Remus down by the lake; a solitary figure perched alone on the end of the dock.  A cold breeze whistled noisily overhead.

"Oh, for goodness sake!  Come back inside – before you catch your death."  

The words flew off her tongue before she could stop them but there was no irritation in her voice, only loving concern.  Remus seemed to realise this and turned slowly to look at her.

"Are you angry with me?" he said, reminding her so much of a naughty child afraid of a parent's rage that it melted her heart.

"No," she said after a moment's hesitation.  Stepping forward, she sat down close beside him.  "A little shocked, perhaps, but not angry."

"Shocked?" 

Minerva took a deep breath.  How could she explain the way she felt?  It wasn't that fact that Remus had hit Severus that bothered her so much – goodness only knew she'd felt like hitting him herself on more than occasion – but more the way his actions had been so far removed from his usual placid character.

"Remus, how could you let him upset you like that?  You let him win!"

"You think a broken nose is 'winning'?" he said irritably.  "Feel sorry for him, do you?"

"Remus!"

Remus exhaled loudly but didn't say anything for a long moment.

"Sorry.  I just lost it.  I couldn't help myself…"

"But why?  He's one man, Remus.  Does it really matter what he thinks?"

"Minerva, Snape has hated me since we were at Hogwarts.  Well, fine, I can live with that, but it's got nothing to do with you.  If you were seeing someone else he wouldn't bother with you.  It's because of me that he's getting at you and that's what makes me so angry."

"I can handle the likes of Severus Snape," she said, a touch stiffly.  She'd always prided herself on her strength.

Remus turned to look at her, gripping her hand firmly as he did so.

"I know that.  My point is you shouldn't have to."

"Well, at least things are out in the open now.  That's one good thing about all this."

She got to her feet.

"Come on, it's too cold to sit out here."

"Minerva?" he called, just as she was turning away.  "I meant what I said last night."

She frowned in mock seriousness.  

"What did you say last night?" she teased.  "I'm sure I can't remember-"

"I love you."

Minerva felt all her earlier fears melt away.  Smiling at Remus, she reached out her hand to lead him back into the warmth of the castle.

* * * * *

The weather turned colder still as Christmas grew closer.  The castle was surprisingly quiet even for the holiday period: besides the Headmaster and the Heads of Houses only a few students and staff remained.  The snow in the grounds didn't help either, dampening as it did every outside sound.  An eerie silence permeated the corridors of Hogwarts and Minerva didn't like it at all.  Normally a fair number of students remained for Christmas: those whose parents were going away, those who didn't have much family and those who just wanted to spend the holiday period with their friends in the rather festive atmosphere that the castle provided.  Why was this year so different?  Perhaps, she supposed, the spectre of Sirius Black had deterred some of them from staying.  His attack on Gryffindor Tower had been rather violent.  Although all had been peaceful since, Minerva suspected the Gryffindor students in particular had been somewhat unnerved and understandably so.

Once she had caught up with her academic responsibilities Minerva had very little to do.  She'd had dinner with Remus at the Three Broomsticks a few times - relaxing occasions since the entire faculty now knew they were an item and they no longer had to pretend otherwise – but for the most part the bitter cold kept them confined to Hogwarts.  Though she enjoyed having the opportunity to relax, Minerva always missed her classes.  She suspected Filius Flitwick did, too.  Three times she had caught him embellishing the decorations in the Great Hall, despite the fact that they would be taken down before the rest of the school arrived back in January.  She'd felt quite sympathetic to the tiny wizard.  At least she had Remus to keep her… occupied.  

On Christmas Day, however, she made her way down to dinner alone.  She felt tired and unusually irritable and would rather have remained upstairs – a light lunch and a long hot bath being vastly preferable to an hour of Severus' company – but Dumbledore had insisted that they both attend.  For a moment she almost envied Remus, then remembered again why he was absent and hastily took it back.

Her gift from him had arrived by owl late that morning: a small velvet covered box marked with the discreet emblem of McKenzie & Lowe, whose Diagon Alley shop was renowned for some of the most exquisite jewellery known to the wizarding world.  Inside was a pair of the most beautiful diamond earrings she had ever seen, with teardrop shaped stones that reflected back the light in every colour of the rainbow.  No wonder he hadn't bought himself a decent set of robes.  He must have saved every penny of his wages for these.  The gesture brought tears to her eyes and she'd gone straight to put them in, admiring their subtle beauty in her mirror until it was time for lunch.

When she arrived in the Great Hall she found that Albus had seated himself at the head of the small table.  Minerva went towards her usual position on his right but he frowned and gestured pointedly to the empty chair next to Severus at the other end of the table, obviously trying to encourage them in rebuilding their fractured relationship.  Reluctantly she took it, smiling stiffly at her dark haired colleague and all the while wishing Remus was with her.  

"Merry Christmas, Minerva!" 

Filius grinned happily at her.  The pint-sized wizard loved Christmas with a passion and had probably been downstairs working on extra decorations all morning.  Further along the table Cynthia Sprout raised her glass and smiled in acknowledgement, and even Argus Filch managed a polite nod.  Snape, however, sat in silence.  It was the first time Minerva had seen him since the end of term.  Most of the bruising had faded now, obviously helped along by one of Poppy's mysterious ointments, and his injury was barely noticeable.  

Soon the students arrived and dinner began.  Minerva shared a cracker with Helen, the young Ravenclaw girl sat opposite, and then turned her attention to the marvellous spread of food in front of her.  But no sooner had she reached for the cranberry sauce than the doors opened and Sybill Trelawney appeared.  Despite the festive season, Minerva observed her arrival with little enthusiasm.  She was, of course, late.  Trust the woman to try and make an entrance, Minerva thought rather uncharitably, and then scolded herself for such unpleasant thoughts.  But no sooner had Albus conjured up an extra chair then Sybill was off again on her favourite topic – predictions of death.  And with Harry present as well.  Really, the woman had no shame at all.

"We'll risk it, Sybill," Minerva snapped irritably, determined not to let her erstwhile colleague spoil anyone else's Christmas.  "Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold."  

Sybill took a seat reluctantly, apparently rather peeved that her outburst had been ignored.

"Tripe, Sybill?"

But Sybill wasn't listening: instead she asked: "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

As if she didn't know!  Minerva barely listened to Dumbledore's response: she was fuming with rage at Sybill's pathetic attempt at attention seeking.  

"But surely you already knew that, Sybill?" she said as soon as the headmaster was finished.

"Certainly I knew, Minerva.  But one does not parade the fact that one is All-Knowing.  I frequently act as though I am not possessed of the Inner Eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," Minerva said, unable to resist the opportunity despite the fact that Sybill had completely missed the point of her question.  

"If you must know, Minerva, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long.  He seems aware, himself, that his time is short.  He positively fled when I offered to crystal-gaze for him…"

"Imagine that."

She was aware of Dumbledore's eyes observing her keenly and abruptly closed her mouth before he intervened.  Inside she was livid.  Minerva had been raised to be thoughtful and considerate of others, something that had been drummed into her almost since birth.  Sybill, it seemed, had had the opposite upbringing and couldn't pass off an opportunity to use another's misfortune to her advantage.  It wasn't as if Remus was even here to defend himself.  Suddenly she felt very alone and subconsciously touched one hand to her new earrings.  She was extremely glad when Sybill fell silent at last and she returned her attention to her meal, only to find her appetite had suddenly deserted her.  She filled her plate regardless and ate slowly, too busy wondering how Remus was to participate in the conversation.  

As the first course finished and the plates were cleared for dessert she noticed Cynthia looking at her with concern.

"Are you all right, Minerva?  You've hardly touched your wine."  

Minerva glanced down at her almost full glass.  Despite the welcome anaesthesia that the alcohol would surely bring, the slightest taste of it on her tongue had sent an involuntary shudder down her spine and she had hastily replaced it on the table.

"I think it's off," she said quietly.

Cynthia shrugged.  "Tastes fine to me," she said, helping herself to another glass.  Minerva passed hers over and reached for the water jug instead.

Dessert consisted of sticky chocolate fudge cake, fruit salad and a meringue concoction that looked like one of Neville Longbottom's botched transfiguration exercises.  Minerva couldn't stomach the thought of anything sweet and politely declined, sipping her water slowly while the rest of the table ate.  When the meal was finally over she was glad to escape.  

"Professor?  Can I please talk to you for a minute."

Minerva turned to see Hermione looking anxiously up at her.  Despite her haste to leave and see Remus her responsibilities to her students came first.

"Of course, Miss Granger.  What is it?"

Hermione glanced awkwardly over her shoulder, obviously afraid that someone might overhear their conversation.  Seeing her discomfort, Minerva decided to take her up the marble staircase to her office on the first floor.  Hermione followed, peering cautiously round the corners in a way that would have made her teacher smile had it not been for the girl's apparent distress.  

* * * * *

When they reached her office Minerva did not take her usual seat behind her desk but instead directed Hermione to one of two comfortable chairs arranged around the fireplace.  

"It's about Harry.  He had a broomstick this morning – a really expensive one.  A present.  It didn't say who it was from but… but what if Sirius Black sent it?  Harry and Ron won't listen to me."

Minerva frowned.

"It's certainly a possibility.  Tell me, Miss Granger, can you think of anyone else that might have decided to bestow such a gift upon Mr Potter?"

"No.  I thought I heard Harry say something about Professor Lupin, though."

"Really?"

"Yes, but… surely Professor Lupin couldn't… I mean…"

Hermione's cheeks flushed bright red as she tried to find a polite of way of indicating Remus' rather obvious lack of finances.  Minerva took pity and interrupted.

"Well you certainly did the right thing informing me.  I shall go up and see Mr Potter now."

Hermione nodded and went to stand up but Minerva called her back.

"Miss Gran… Hermione.  How are you finding your studies lately?  I trust the time turner is serving its purpose."

"Oh, yes Professor!"

"You have been looking a little tired lately.  I want you to promise me you won't work too hard."

There was a distinct flash of guilt across Hermione's expression.

"There is more to life than studying, you know," Minerva continued.  "Although goodness knows I was the same at your age."

She sighed, remembering how long ago that was.  

"Right, then.  We'd better go and see about this broom."

* * * * *

When she finally arrived at Remus' office, Firebolt still in her hands, it was to find the room empty.  There was no sign of Remus, save for an empty glass, plate and bowl, all stacked neatly with the cutlery on top.  So Albus had made sure that Remus had had his Christmas dinner.  It was a surprisingly thoughtful gesture made all the more meaningful because of his earlier harsh words.  Remus had told Minerva about his somewhat awkward apology from Severus and his equally stiff reply.  Although beneath the surface their hatred still simmered, they were at least making an effort to get along publicly and Albus obviously approved.  It was typical of the kindly headmaster that he had thought to provide Remus with a meal.

She finally found her exhausted lover back upstairs in her bedroom.  He was sprawled fully clothed on top of the quilt, obviously fast asleep.  As she studied his weary face she was struck once more by how much it had aged.  Even in their school days he'd had a gravity to his expression that was beyond his years, unsurprising when you considered the burden he'd carried ever since he was tiny.  A decade more of loneliness and pain and he looked easily a dozen years her senior.  She had to admit, though, that fresh air and healthy meals at Hogwarts had given her something of an advantage there.  Even Albus - who'd met her for the first time when she was barely a day old - often joked that he did not believe she was really forty-two, even by wizarding terms.  Watching him sleep made her feel tired again and for a moment she debated whether to rest or to follow through with her previous plan, which was to take Harry's new Firebolt to Filius for his advice on which curses to check for.  In the end fatigue won out.  Minerva placed the broomstick carefully on her desk then kicked off her shoes and went to lie down beside Remus.

She awoke to find that Remus had gone, having folded his half of the quilt over her to keep her warm.  It was dark outside, though candlelight glowed invitingly from beyond the bathroom door.  Remus emerged a moment later looking pleased to see her.

"I was going to wake you in a minute," he confessed.  "I thought you might like a bath."

Minerva caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on her dressing table: smart robes badly creased from where she'd been sleeping.  Hair half loose, half still tied back.  Tired, puffy eyes.  A bath was exactly what she needed.  She started to undress.

"Wine?"  He proffered the bottle at her with a grin but the thought of it still turned her stomach.

"Thanks but I'll stick with the hot chocolate."

He helped her gently into the bath then pulled her back to lie against him, gently soaping her shoulders and massaging away the tension that still remained after her earlier altercation with Sybill Trelawney.  Normally the day after full moon saw Minerva taking care of Remus – tonight he evidently had other plans.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she murmured.  

"Just trying to make up for the fact that I wasn't there to give you your Christmas present!"

The mention of Christmas presents sent a sudden spark of realisation.

"Oh, Remus, I forgot to give you your gift!"  

And it was true.  The Hogwarts staff rarely bothered buying gifts for each other and Minerva – being the serial organiser that she was – had carefully written out and posted her cards the first week of December.  She'd made an early visit to Diagon Alley, anxious to avoid the crowds of Christmas shoppers, and – armed with Remus' measurements – Madam Malkin's had been her first destination.  The travelling cloak she'd had made for Remus was of the highest quality possible: dove grey with leather fastenings and a warm, fleece lining.  Delicately wrapped, it sat now in the bottom of her wardrobe.

"Do you like the earrings?" he asked softly, reaching with one hand to gently finger her earlobe.

"They're beautiful," Minerva replied.  "However did you-"

"Ssh!"  He touched one finger to her lips.  "No questions.  Besides, Mr McKenzie is a friend of mine."

"I'll get yours for you in a minute." 

"I'd settle for just you," he said, nuzzling gently against her neck.  

She closed her eyes as he enfolded her in his embrace, slowly rocking her. 

"Why is there a broomstick on your desk?" he asked suddenly.

Minerva opened her eyes again.  She'd completely forgotten about the Firebolt.  Quickly she filled Remus in on her conversation with Hermione and her subsequent visit to Gryffindor Tower.  

"Harry was quite disappointed as I'm sure you can imagine.  But we can't take the risk, not when things are the way they are."

"Do you really think it's from Sirius?  Given that his actions so far have been, well, rather impetuous, do you really think he'd take the time and effort to send Harry a cursed broomstick?"

"Well, he hasn't managed to reach Harry yet.  Perhaps he's trying a new trick.  Besides," she added, carefully keeping her tone light, "I wouldn't have said you were the kind of man to hit Severus Snape but you did."

Remus merely grunted in response.

"We can't afford to make the mistake of judging by appearances," Minerva continued.

"All right, point taken."

They both fell silent for a while, enjoying the luxury of each other's company.  Remus finished his glass of wine and carefully balanced the glass on the side of the tub to refill it.

"I missed you today," Minerva said softly.  

"Maybe we should celebrate tomorrow instead."

His words aroused her curiosity and she twisted round to look at him.

"Celebrate how?" she asked.

"I don't know.  How about London?  We could have lunch, wander around the shops.  I'll buy you lunch," he added, seeing her indecision.

"There's no need for that," Minerva said immediately.  She guessed that Remus didn't have much money left and she herself had no great fondness for extravagant purchases.  But the idea of a day away from Hogwarts – just the two of them together – had its merits.

"All right," she agreed eventually.  "That would be nice."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." 


	7. Revelations

This chapter is dedicated to Sasha for her constant nagging, without which it may never have materialised. I'd also like to credit the HPL POA timeline (http://www.i2k.com/~svderark/lexicon/calendar_pa.html) for being an invaluable source of information throughout this fic.   
  
Chapter Seven: Revelations  
  
Boxing Day dawned unusually bright over Hogwarts. Remus Lupin left the Great Hall and started up the marble staircase only to find bright beams of sunlight falling through the tall windows. He had to blink furiously until his eyes accustomed to the sudden influx of light. Minerva had not accompanied him to breakfast: she'd still been asleep when he'd awakened and, knowing how tired she'd been lately, Remus had decided to leave her in peace. Now he carried a tray laden with all the things he knew she'd like: cereal with fresh honey and yoghurt, warm croissants from the bakery in Hogsmeade and a large glass of apple juice.  
  
He'd sat next to Severus Snape at breakfast, now that the house tables had been put back in their usual place. He was determined not to be the cause of any further trouble that might jeopardise his relationship with Minerva and his job at Hogwarts. One or two of the staff had actually congratulated him for taking Severus down a few pegs but Remus had shrugged them off coolly, still regretting his reaction to the man's taunts. He was not a violent man, but violence was often - mistakenly - assumed to be a common character attribute amongst werewolves. Throughout his life he'd worked hard to overcome that prejudice, learning to control his temper and project an appearance of calm at all times. He still wasn't quite sure why he'd lost it so badly with Severus. He could only think it was because the man had unwittingly touched upon his deepest fear: that his being a werewolf would eventually drive Minerva to find someone more worthy, someone who deserved her love and understanding far better than Remus did. But Minerva had said nothing more about the incident and he knew she'd consigned it to history. Now he was doing his best to repair matters, and if that meant being polite, even pleasant to Severus Snape then so be it.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Half an hour later Remus sat in Minerva's living room reviewing his shopping list as he waited for her to get dressed. As soon as he'd mentioned their plans for the day at breakfast he'd faced an avalanche of requests from the rest of the staff. Minerva had warned him the previous night but he'd thought she'd been exaggerating. Now he wished he'd taken her advice.  
  
"Ready?"   
  
Minerva appeared from her bedroom wearing her warmest winter robes and cloak. She took a pinch of floo powder from the glass jar on the mantelpiece and stepped forward towards the flames.  
  
Headmaster Heatherwick - predecessor to Armando Dippet - had been notoriously lazily and, after six years of traipsing the endless miles of corridors that criss crossed the school, had subsequently installed an internal floo system at Hogwarts. It had never been permanently connected to the main Floo Network for security reasons, the dark wizard Grindelwald having been at the peak of his powers during Heatherwick's reign as headmaster. Only a few select members of staff, Minerva included, knew the charms that would open the gateway and take them through it into the outside world.  
  
"Diagon Alley!"  
  
There was a brief flash of green and then she was gone. A moment later Remus followed her, spinning headfirst through the darkness until he felt his feet hit the ground with a thump. They had arrived in the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
For the second time that day Remus found himself temporarily sightless at the sudden change in light. This time it was from the relative brightness of Minerva's living room to the perpetual grubby gloom of the Leaky Cauldron, the attraction of which he had never managed to discover. He suspected that it was the notoriety of the place as gateway between muggle and magical worlds that drew such a large crowd. He himself had spent much of the past decade in London but - on the rare occasions he socialised with his workmates - preferred the cleaner and more spacious bar of the Fountain, located at the far end of Diagon Alley and not that far from the Ministry itself. Nevertheless the Leaky Cauldron was packed as usual and Remus found himself nodding courteously to several old colleagues.  
  
"Want a drink?" he asked Minerva, more out of politeness than actual thirst.  
  
She shook her head and beckoned him to follow her through the throng by the bar and out into the courtyard.   
  
Outside there was no sign of snow and a weak wintry sun shone in the pale sky above, making the air a little warmer than it had been at Hogwarts but still cold enough to make Remus glad of his new cloak and borrowed Gryffindor scarf. A tall wizard walking ahead of them had opened the archway to Diagon Alley and they slipped through quickly before it had time to close.  
  
Diagon Alley though a hive of activity was not as busy as it had been during Remus' last visit in September when it seemed the whole of Hogwarts had been there to purchase their school things. There were a few children here and there, obviously keen to spend their Christmas money on the latest practical jokes and magic toys.  
  
"Any preference?"  
  
Immediately Minerva's face lit up.  
  
"Flourish & Blotts!" she said excitedly.  
  
Remus shrugged. "I should have known," he admitted.  
  
Together they walked a short way down the alley until they reached the bookshop. As usual its windows contained a colourful display of the latest novels and textbooks, this month's theme being festive charms and curses.   
  
Inside Minerva immediately disappeared, presumably in the direction of the transfiguration section. Remus had thought her collection of books and journals on the subject to be exhaustive but it appeared he was wrong. Still, he wasn't bothered about being left alone and instead he idly perused the shelves. He wasn't an avid reader. Minerva had a passion for words and would happily read anything she could find. Remus, on the other hand, had to be sufficiently interested in the content matter to be able to concentrate. He managed to locate one of the titles on show in the window - 'Wizard Christmas!' - which promised 'decorations and displays to amaze your family and astound your friends!'. He couldn't resist buying it for Filius Flitwick, whose love of festive decorations was renowned amongst the Hogwarts staff, if not the wizarding world as a whole. And then another book caught his attention and he was immediately engrossed.  
  
It was twenty minutes before Minerva returned, this time accompanied by a rather unfortunate assistant whose arms were so laden with books that his face was barely visible.   
  
"Ready?" she asked.  
  
Remus raised an eyebrow at the sparkle in her eyes.  
  
"Do you want me to leave you here and come back in a week or two?" he teased.  
  
With a smile she turned and walked to the counter to pay for her purchases and arrange delivery to the school. Remus went over to join her and as he did his eye fell on a display of newly published work, in the centre of which sat a large, glossy hardback. "Tragical Me" claimed to reveal the shocking truth behind one of the wizarding world's most well known celebrities.   
  
"Wasn't he the one who...?"  
  
Minerva rolled her eyes in disgust and Remus knew better than finish his sentence.  
  
"What have you got?" she asked.  
  
He showed her the book for Filius and then the other title he'd selected: 'Full Moon: Living With Werewolfism'.  
  
"An informative tour of the myths and facts surrounding this much feared condition," he read aloud. "Also includes recent discoveries such as the Wolfsbane Potion and how latest developments at the Institute for Magical Research mean a cure could finally be in sight."  
  
He noticed the curious look on the assistant's face.  
  
"Purely for research purposes, of course," he added loudly. "The third class have just finished covering werewolves. I'm sure it will be of interest to them."  
  
They left the bookshop together and made their way along Diagon Alley. As they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies Remus' attention was caught briefly by the Firebolt still displayed in the window. He said nothing but a frown creased his forehead as he recalled the duplicate lying still on Minerva's desk. Was it really a deadly trap? It had looked ordinary enough - well as ordinary as a broomstick worth thousands of galleons could look - but he couldn't be sure. He was glad that Hermione had plucked up the courage to go to Minerva with her worries. Even if they proved to be unfounded it was best that they played it safe.  
  
Further down the street they followed another passageway that lead off to the right, twisting and turning a few times until suddenly they emerged into Magenta Square. Dominated on two sides by the white marble towers of the Ministry of Magic, the remainder of the space was occupied by rather more exclusive stores and restaurants than those found in Diagon Alley. There were no goods stacked out in the square itself - only discreet and tasteful window displays that suggested in no uncertain terms that unless you had a fair few galleons to spend, you were shopping in the wrong part of London.  
  
Minerva and Remus wandered slowly past McKenzie & Lowe, stopping momentarily to admire the gems on show. It was only a week since Remus had been there to collect Minerva's earrings and he smiled to himself as he remembered the moment when they'd finally become his. He'd saved most of his wages since their relationship had grown, knowing that he wanted to treat her to something special. It hadn't been hard: he was not an extravagant man, accustomed as he was to surviving on a relatively small income. Now that his bed and board were provided free of charge his monthly outgoings were even less. He only wished he'd been there to give them to her in person. Still, there was always her birthday.   
  
He glanced around to find that Minerva was no longer with him but rather a little further along gazing wistfully into the window of Desiderata's Designer Robes.  
  
"I loved this shop when I was younger," she said as Remus approached.   
  
"Really?"  
  
"Oh, yes. My father worked at the Ministry for a while - well, you know that. He'd sometimes bring me down to London in the holidays and let me explore Diagon Alley all day. I used to spend half the day just staring through the window imagining how glamorous I'd look wearing clothes like this."  
  
She gestured at the beautiful, beaded creations on display.  
  
"Let's go in," Remus said impulsively.  
  
Minerva looked hesitant and for a moment he thought she was going to refuse. But just as she opened her mouth to form words of agreement another voice cut loudly across them.  
  
"Why, if it isn't Professor McGonagall! How are you, my dear?"  
  
Cornelius Fudge, proudly sporting a new bowler hat in a rather virulent shade of turquoise, beamed widely at Minerva as he crossed the square towards them. He did not appear to have noticed Remus.  
  
"I'm fine, thank you Cornelius," Minerva said primly. "I trust you, too, are well?"  
  
"Oh, struggling on!" he said jovially. "No rest for the wicked at the Ministry."  
  
Minerva smiled coolly. Cornelius Fudge was constantly pestering Dumbledore for his advice and knowledge yet was quite happy to take the credit when things went well. Remus knew this was a sore spot with Minerva.  
  
"So, I take it you're on Hogwarts business?"  
  
"No, we're just enjoying a day off."  
  
We? Remus could see Fudge's brow wrinkle in confusion. He seemed to see Remus for the first time. Despite the fact that they'd met on several occasions when Remus had worked at the Ministry, he appeared to be having a lot of trouble remembering his name.  
  
"Mr, er..."  
  
"Professor Remus Lupin," Minerva cut in. "My significant other."  
  
"Your, er... your what?"  
  
Minerva slipped her arm firmly through that of her lover and leant over to kiss his cheek.   
  
"Remus bought me these earrings for Christmas," she said sweetly. "Do you like them?"   
  
Remus remained silent. He could tell Minerva was having fun. Fudge's face was turning redder by the minute as he struggled to comprehend what he was being told.  
  
"You and... er, you and... him?!" he muttered. "But-"  
  
"Well, Minerva, we must be going," Remus interrupted smoothly. "Time for lunch, I think."  
  
"Of course. Goodbye Cornelius. It was nice to see you."  
  
As soon as they got around the corner Remus let out a deep sigh.   
  
"I don't think he took that very well."  
  
"Well, I hope you never need a job at the Ministry again," Minerva said. "I'm sorry, I should have kept my mouth shut. I just can't stand that man. He's not fit to be Minister for Magic!"  
  
"Don't hold back, Minerva," Remus teased lightly. "Tell me what you really think."  
  
They reached the entrance to the restaurant but just as Remus was about to lead the way in he felt Minerva tugging gently at his arm.   
  
"Do we have to eat here?" she asked.  
  
"What's wrong with here?"  
  
He glanced briefly through the window. The large, open plan space was filled with diners, mostly senior Ministry staff. He thought he could see one or two of the school governors.   
  
"I'd rather go somewhere that we can talk. Somewhere relaxed. Perhaps we could go back to the Leaky Cauldron?"  
  
Remus thought for a moment.  
  
"No, I know just the place."  
  
* * * * *  
  
The Witches' Sabbat was a small pub tucked just around the corner from the Ministry. In contrast to the shadowy interior of the Leaky Cauldron it was a warm, cheerful place with cream walls and oak beams stretching across the ceiling. A roaring fire crackled loudly in the grate and the smell of roasted pork and apple wafted from the kitchen. Remus led Minerva to a small table tucked discreetly into one corner.   
  
Their meal was served promptly. As they ate, Remus told her a little more about the time he'd spent in the London. He'd enjoyed his job at the Ministry but nobody had really bothered with him. He'd only been there a few days when the truth had come out. The Ministry, owing to its highly public position, was forced to instigate an equal opportunities policy with regard to the staff it employed. That meant that Remus' knowledge and education had at last counted for something. But someone somewhere hadn't been at all happy about hiring a werewolf. Remus' condition was common knowledge before he'd even had time to learn his colleagues' names. Only those few with enough intelligence to see beyond the prejudice of others had been friendly.  
  
Minerva listened with interest. He'd never really talked to her about this before and he could see the sympathy in her eyes. Fudge's reaction to her earlier revelation had been all the evidence she needed. Minerva, like him, had always despised the narrow-minded bigotry that was stealthily invading their world. When the waitress came to clear away their plates it was a welcome relief from the oppressive nature of their conversation.  
  
"Dessert?"  
  
"Yes please," Minerva said immediately.   
  
Remus settled for fresh blackberry crumble and cream. When it arrived Minerva tucked in hungrily, much to his amusement. She'd eaten a full Sunday roast already and she wasn't exactly large. Where was she putting it all?  
  
"So, you like this place?" he asked, determined to lighten the mood a little.  
  
"It's lovely. Did you bring your other girlfriends here?"   
  
Despite the teasing tone in her voice Remus could detect a whole lot of deeper meanings.  
  
"Didn't have any," he grunted.  
  
"What, no one at all?"  
  
"No. Minerva, I've told you this before."  
  
"Surely there must have been somebody? Are you seriously telling me that you never..?" Her words trailed off but she continued to gaze at him with keen interest. Eventually he gave in.  
  
"All right, there were a few."  
  
"I knew it!" There was a triumphant gleam in her eye.  
  
"But they didn't mean anything, none of them. It was just mindless sex. That's all."  
  
Minerva smiled.   
  
"Mindless sex? Really? I bet that's what you'll say about me someday."  
  
"I would never say that about you," he said vehemently. He knew she was joking but still her remark hit a nerve. Why would she think that he'd say that about her? Unless... maybe she wasn't expecting this to last.  
  
"How about you?" he said abruptly.  
  
Immediately her expression changed.  
  
"I'd rather not talk about it," she said.  
  
"That's not fair! You made me talk about it."  
  
"I know. I don't want you to think I'm... well, strange."  
  
"Minerva, I'm a werewolf. I'm not exactly the epitome of normality myself."  
  
"I hardly think that's the same thing."  
  
"Well, if you told me I could judge for myself."  
  
"It's nothing really. It's just that I..."  
  
She trailed off awkwardly.  
  
"Are you seriously telling me that you never..?" he said, mimicking her earlier question as he leaned closer to her across the table.   
  
Minerva's cheeks flushed a vivid shade of scarlet.  
  
"Remus, I-"  
  
"Coffee?"   
  
The waitress's voice was like a sudden cold shower. Remus leapt back and hastily asked for the bill, wondering all the while if she really meant what he thought.   
  
* * * * *   
  
They left the restaurant and made their way back up towards Diagon Alley, stopping on the way to pick up Xiomara's broomstick polish, along with sherbet lemons for Dumbledore who was apparently unwilling to brave the snow that carpeted Hogsmeade to pick some up for himself. Remus soon began to regret mentioning their destination at breakfast as he garnered more and more packages: fennel and mugwort seeds for Professor Sprout, Poppy Pomfrey's monthly apothecary order and Hagrid's newly repaired pocket watch. The snow had thickened and turned into icy sleet that stung their faces as they walked. When at last they reached the Leaky Cauldron it was a welcome respite from the bitter weather outside. Remus ordered homemade peach brandy for them both, the only attraction he had ever discovered in the gloomy place.  
  
They sat down together in a quiet corner of the pub, soaked through and shivering. Remus took a deep draught of the brandy, savouring its warmth as it spread from his stomach into his veins. Gradually the heat from the fire drew the dampness out of his clothes and he began to relax, content to watch the comings and goings of the rest of the pub's occupants. Minerva rested her head on his shoulder and before long her breathing grew slow as she drifted off to sleep. Idly he wondered if someone had been slipping a sleeping potion into her food lately. It seemed as if she was always tired. Perhaps he should have a word with Poppy when they got home? It was only when the sky began to darken that he noticed it was almost five o'clock: high time they were heading back to Hogwarts.  
  
* * * * *  
  
Ten minutes later - after Remus had nudged Minerva awake and purchased a full flagon of brandy from the bar - they arrived back in Minerva's living room. While Minerva disappeared into the bathroom, brandy glass in hand, Remus peeled off his sopping garments and sat at the bottom of the bed where he could catch the full warmth of the roaring fire. 'Full Moon: Living With Werewolfism' lay open on his lap but he was unable to concentrate on assimilating it's contents. Instead his thoughts kept wandering back to Minerva and their conversation at lunchtime. Did she really mean what it sounded like she meant? It was true that - to his knowledge - she'd never dated anyone when they were at school. But more than a dozen years spanned the gap between now and then and a dozen years was a long time to be alone. It had certainly been too long for him.   
  
The bathroom door opened and Minerva emerged, still massaging her favourite moisturising cream into her hands. Her hair was dry now and tumbled loose like glossy waves of ebony over her shoulders whilst the alcohol had left a telltale red glow on her cheeks. Remus went to refill their glasses but found he could not take his eyes off her.   
  
It wasn't long before she noticed. He saw the corners of her mouth twitch as she tried not to smile but she was too far under the influence and could not prevent the laughter from bubbling up.  
  
"Professor McGonagall, are you are drunk?"  
  
"No!" she protested hotly, but then revealed the truth with a sudden giggle, possibly the most un-Minerva like sound he had ever heard from her lips.  
  
He raised an eyebrow at her, still feigning seriousness and she came to sit beside him, leaning over to kiss him before resting her head on his shoulder. The delicate fragrance of her perfume drifted into his nostrils and he inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent and the memories it evoked. Perhaps we'll add to them tonight, he considered. Perhaps I should just forget about what she was saying earlier and enjoy things as they are. Perhaps...  
  
Aloud he said: "Thank you for sticking up for me."  
  
Her face showed confusion, her usually sharp reactions hampered by the alcohol permeating her bloodstream.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I mean, with Cornelius Fudge. You could have said we were just colleagues but you didn't. That means a lot to me."  
  
"I only told him the truth."  
  
"I know that but... Minerva, all my life people have been ashamed of me. Of what I am. They won't say I'm a werewolf. They talk about my condition, my illness."  
  
She took hold of his hands with hers, gripping them firmly.  
  
"Real, true love means loving someone so completely that you accept them for everything they are, through everything that might happen. That's what you are to me and I won't deny that to anyone. Least of all Cornelius Fudge," she added scornfully, disgust obvious in her tone. "He's an idiot, Remus. Who cares what he thinks?"  
  
Remus sighed deeply, feeling the tension flow from his body like a tidal wave, feeling free of his burden at last. He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled his head gently against hers.  
  
"Tell me what I did to deserve you," he whispered.  
  
She smiled and he felt her arms slip around his waist. With his mouth he planted tender kisses along her jawbone and across her cheek. But when he went to draw her closer she pulled away reluctantly, the glass still in her hand.  
  
"I must get dressed," she said.  
  
Remus studied her for a moment. In his mind's eye he saw her as a teenager again, crying softly in the common room one night after the death of someone's parents, slain brutally by Voldemort whose reign of horror was just beginning. She'd thought she was alone - she'd been completely unaware of the presence of fifteen year old Remus watching her from the landing that overlooked where she sat. Watching her in her simple white nightgown, so innocent and untouched. Watching her and struggling to control powerful emotions so strange and yet so familiar to his teenage body. Half of him had wanted to comfort her, half of him had been too consumed by lust to even consider it. After a while he'd crept silently back upstairs. But since that night he'd never seen her in quite the same light.  
  
I have to know, he thought. I want to know.  
  
"Minerva? Was I... was I really your first?"  
  
She gazed at him for a long moment, suddenly sombre. He noticed her hand gripping the brandy glass tightly. Was she afraid of what he'd think?  
  
"Yes," she said simply, and turned and walked back into the bathroom.   
  
Though he'd been half expecting her answer, Remus was still taken aback. Their affair had started spontaneously and Minerva had assured him she did not regret that first intimate encounter. But he'd had no idea at the time that it had been such a big step for her. A step that she'd not been afraid to take. Suddenly that evening and it's consequences became all the more poignant to Remus, and he wished for a moment that he'd known how important that night was to her beforehand. Could I have been gentler, he wondered. More understanding? Did I even give her a chance to tell me? And then he realised the truth: that had he known, he would not have allowed it to happen. Instead he would have turned and left, insisting that she took the time to be sure that it was really what she wanted. Probably they would still be skirting around each other now, neither one brave enough to take that first step.  
  
When he looked up she was standing in the doorway.   
  
"It was the best way," she said softly, as if she'd read his mind. "I didn't want it to be awkward."  
  
Remus gazed at her with even more respect than ever.  
  
"You are amazing," he said sincerely.  
  
"You were worth waiting for."   
  
She kissed him softly, her lips lingering on his, tasting the sweetness of the brandy still on his tongue.   
  
"Minerva, make love to me..."  
  
She drained the last of her brandy and placed the glass gently on top of her dressing table, then slowly, deliberately untied the sash of her dressing gown. A moment later it fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Minerva stepped away from it and stood naked before him, shadows dancing tantalisingly across her body in the flickering firelight. The brandy had lifted her confidence and she waited patiently as Remus gazed unabashed at her, his eyes greedily drinking in the sight before him. Every curve, every plane, every inch of her beautiful body... he wanted to memorise it all. There was an intensity in her deep brown eyes that he'd rarely seen in the past, mixed with a desire that he knew only too well. He found himself filled with emotions so strong, so powerful that they was almost painful to bear. Would he ever be able to get enough of her? He didn't think so.   
  
"I love you, Remus. Don't ever doubt that."  
  
"Come here..." he whispered, his breath jagged, his voice hoarse. He could feel his heart beating fast, driving his blood through his veins. He wanted so desperately to make this last, to savour every glorious moment but a certain part of his anatomy clearly had other ideas.  
  
"Promise me, Remus..."   
  
She reached out to where his hands lay in his lap, gently entwining her fingers with his and stroking them slowly back and forth. After a moment she lifted each of his hands in hers and kissed them gently, then drew them up to her breasts. Remus let his fingers dance lightly down her side, over her hip.  
  
He looked up and was shocked to see tears forming in her eyes.  
  
"Promise me..." she whispered again.  
  
"I promise."  
  
With his fingertips he caressed her skin, his touch feather light. He felt her knees nudging against his, gently pushing his legs apart so that she could stand closer. He slipped his arms around her waist then buried his face against her neck as she rested her chin on top of his head, both breathing heavily. After a moment his eyes fell on the tub of moisturiser sitting on her dressing table and he guided her to lie down on the bed.  
  
Reaching for the jar, he tipped some of the contents into the palm of his hand, gently warming the cream in his hands. Then he stepped forward, climbing carefully onto the bed, straddling her naked body. She sighed in response, the ragged, shaky sigh of a woman struggling to fight her growing arousal.   
  
Remus started to massage the cream into Minerva's back, gliding his hands over her skin in long smooth strokes. With his fingertips he circled her shoulder blade then gently kneaded the muscles, easing away what tension they held.  
  
"Where did you learn how to do that?" she murmured.  
  
"Wouldn't you like to know?"  
  
Remus worked his way slowly down her back then let his hands move lower still to gently stroke his lover's thighs, his touch feather light. He felt his arousal grow as he pressed closer against her, unable to resist any longer...   
  
"Minerva?"  
  
There was silence. Remus paused for a moment. Surely she couldn't be...?   
  
But when he leaned forward he could see it was true.  
  
She was already fast asleep.  
  
With a sigh Remus got up from the bed, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Then he pulled the duvet over her sleeping form and surrendered to the only option that remained: a cold shower. 


	8. New Year

__

Chapter Eight

* * * * *

New Year's Eve was a clear and frosty night. There was no official school celebration: the Christmas decorations were already down and none of the staff were in the mood for another party. Instead, food for the few students still around was served to the House Common Rooms and the Heads of Houses were left in peace to celebrate in their own way. 

That evening, like most evenings, the library at Hogwarts lay peaceful and quiet. The library was located on the second floor and occupied an entire wing of the castle. It was a massive space containing tens of thousands of books on shelves that were in places several storeys high – yet somehow it fitted neatly beneath the hospital wing above. Silencing charms had been placed on the floors, making it a favourite pastime of bored students to creep up behind their classmates and startle them into dropping their books so that they faced the sharp remonstrations of Madam Pince. Unfortunately the charms were effective enough that even Minerva's sharply tapping heels could not be heard. Quite a few points had been deducted from various houses whose students had been blissfully unaware of the deputy headmistress stood behind them as they misbehaved.

Minerva knew many of the students disliked the library and found its narrow passageways and constant near silence oppressive. To her, however, it was a comforting place: a place of peace and tranquillity though always with the soft murmur of voices in the distance to remind her that she was not alone. As a student she'd spent a considerable proportion of her free time here. She'd always been quite happy in her own company and knowledge fascinated her. If she didn't have homework to do she'd pick something from the shelves at random, perusing the pages with eager curiosity. The minutes would slip past unnoticed while she read. She'd often been late for Quidditch practice, much to the exasperation of her team mates who'd tolerated her frequent tardiness only because of her talent as a Seeker. 

Now that she was a staff member Minerva maintained her own collection of transfiguration journals and books but often visited the library in search of wider reading. Once there she never found it easy to leave though her responsibilities now required her to. Only in the past few months had a greater attraction presented itself… an attraction that had been busy afternoon taking care of the Fwooper he had somehow managed to acquire for his third year class the following day and was now heading into Hogsmeade with the rest of the staff to see the New Year in. 

But Minerva hadn't felt well enough to trek through the snow and ice to the village. Instead she'd taken advantage of his absence to visit the restricted section in search of some information on broomstick jinxing. Filius had begun work on Harry Potter's Firebolt and had invited her to join him the following evening. Minerva was determined to have the necessary knowledge at her fingertips. 

As she passed the reading tables there was a sudden fluttering of pages and an abandoned copy of 'The Monster Book of Monsters' scuttled loudly across the floor and snapped its covers loudly. It startled Minerva more than she cared to admit and she shot a hasty stunning spell at it, calling an apology to Madam Pince once she realised what it was she'd hit. Honestly, as if the content of a book was not enough by itself. Why did so many inferior authors feel they had to resort to such pathetic ruses in order to sell their works? It was absolutely typical of Hagrid that he would find this amusing. 

A sudden loud sniff from the corner caused Minerva to jump yet again. When she recovered her senses she took a tentative step in the direction it seemed to have come from. A moment later there was another, louder sniff and a hastily stifled sob. She strode silently around the corner and there, at the furthest end of the reading room, was the source of the noise. Books were piled high on either side of the table, almost hiding the student that sat there from view. Only a few strands of bushy brown hair served to identify her as Hermione Granger.

"Miss Granger?" 

Hermione's head shot up in shock, sending several of her books tumbling off the edge of her desk to hit the floor with a resounding crash. At the same time her flailing hand knocked her ink well flying. A trail of black ink spots fell beneath it as it arched gracefully along its trajectory, only finally stopping when it met an impassable obstacle.

An obstacle that happened to be Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.

"Well," Minerva said brightly into the ensuing silence. "Never mind. No harm done."

Hermione slowly looked up.

The remains of the shattered ink well lay at Minerva's feet. Ink had covered the front of her robes turning the intricately embroidered velvet from emerald green to glistening black and she was certain some of it had splashed in her face. 

Hermione gazed at her in horror, one hand covering her mouth. She looked distinctly as though she was about to burst into tears again.

Instead, much to Minerva's surprise, she hastily stifled a giggle.

With a sigh Minerva produced her wand, carefully vanishing the ink from her robes and face and the glass from the floor. Hermione's books rose gracefully into the air and stacked themselves neatly on an empty desk nearby. And finally, since after all she already had her wand out, a straight backed red armchair materialised from thin air and landed next to where Hermione was sitting.

Satisfied, Minerva sat down.

"Now," she said kindly. "Perhaps you would tell me why you've elected to spend New Year's Eve alone in the library crying?"

Hermione took a deep breath and tried hard to compose herself. 

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

"Well if you're fine, why aren't you upstairs with Potter and Weasley? I'm sure that this" - she gestured towards Hermione's parchment – "can wait until tomorrow."

"I- I wanted to catch up on some reading," Hermione explained. "Professor Binns set us an essay on the 1932 goblin conspiracies and I-"

But twelve years of teaching had made Minerva an expert at spotting when she wasn't being told the truth.

"Hermione," she interrupted firmly. "The real reason, please."

Hermione stared blankly down at the desk. When Minerva leaned forward she could see the tears welling up in her young student's eyes, tears that Hermione could no longer control.

"Harry and Ron won't talk to me," she sobbed. "Because I told you about Harry's broomstick, remember? But I thought I was doing the right thing…"

Hermione broke off, shaking her head bitterly. 

So, Minerva thought grimly. That explains it. 

"You did do the right thing," she said gently. "What if something had happened to Pott- to Harry when he flew that broom? Mr Weasley would never forgive himself. And neither would you."

"I know."

"I expect we will have finished with it by the next match anyway. Goodness, it's more than a month away."

"It's not Harry so much, anyway. It's more Ron."

"Oh." 

Minerva understood completely: years of being surrounded by adolescents had finely tuned her ears and she was adept at reading subtle undertones. She also knew there was no sense in trying to talk to either boy. Perhaps a distraction would help?

Aloud she said: "I have some new books to catalogue. It's rather a large task, I'm afraid. Would you be interested in helping me?"

Hermione nodded gratefully. Minerva passed her a handkerchief and waited whilst she quickly tidied her books away. Then she led the way downstairs to her office.

Unlike Filius Flitwick – whose unruly stacks of books doubled as a useful platform from which to teach his classes – Minerva kept the floor to ceiling bookshelves that filled two walls of her office fastidiously well organised. Her delivery from Flourish and Blotts had arrived the previous day and she hadn't yet had time to label them up and find places for them in her collection. Truth be told, she was quite glad to have company for this slightly tedious task. Remus had already refused to help, drawing the line at spending New Year's Eve cataloguing books. Once he'd realised that she wasn't going to join the rest of the staff at the Three Broomsticks he'd left her to it and gone by himself. But Hermione… well, she hadn't thought of asking Hermione until now.

Quickly she showed Hermione how her filing system worked and the two of them set to work with quills and magically sticky parchment in different hues according to the particular topic concerns. It wasn't long before Minerva could see she'd done the right thing. Hermione was completely absorbed in what she was doing, leafing through each book with wide eyed curiosity, occasionally asking questions about particular spells or transformations which Minerva was happy to answer. 

When Hermione reached 'Modern Animagus Training' she seemed particularly reluctant to let it go.

"You can borrow that one if you like," Minerva said softly. "On one condition, that is."

"What?"

"That you promise me you'll do your best not to worry about Potter and Weasley and not work too hard."

Hermione nodded slowly as she put the book to one side.

"I'll try, Professor. But…"

"But what?"

"I wanted to ask you something," Hermione said hesitantly. "It's… it's about Sirius Black."

Immediately Minerva's heart sank. Hermione was a curious girl. Had she found out just how friendly Sirius had been with Remus and James? Had she guessed that Sirius was looking for Harry? It wouldn't take a genius to put it together. Perhaps Hermione had told Harry and that was the real reason why the two of them weren't speaking.

But then perhaps Harry deserved to know the truth anyway. 

Minerva sighed.

"What do you want to know?" she asked resignedly.

"I overheard Professor Snape when I was in the library. He said Sirius once tried to kill him. Is that true?"

She hadn't been expecting that. She knew from her own time at Hogwarts that Severus had disliked Sirius. In fact she'd given both James and Sirius detention on more than one occasion for picking on him. But Sirius trying to kill Severus? Was that true? Perhaps Hermione had misheard.

"I expect he was… exaggerating," Minerva said aloud, unwilling to say anything more until she'd had a chance to investigate properly. "I really shouldn't worry about it, Hermione. And on that note it's getting late and you should be off to bed."

* * * * *

When Minerva finally arrived upstairs it was to find her living room empty and rather chilly. Quickly she lit a fire and went to shed her heavy winter robes in favour of pyjamas and dressing gown. She was still worried about Hermione. Weasley was stubborn, she knew, and Potter could be almost as bad. They wouldn't see that their friend had had their best interests at heart. It would be a few weeks at least before the broomstick was ready and Hermione was already struggling with a heavy workload without added stress from Potter and Weasley. Had she done the wrong thing in giving her the Time Turner? And what on earth had Snape been saying about Sirius? Weren't the students worried enough without him aggravating things?

Minerva was feeling increasingly tearful and wished Remus was back, knowing he'd give her the support and reassurance she needed. But the door remained resolutely shut. Instead she scolded herself for being so weak and decided the best thing she could do was to get some sleep. 

* * * * *

The sound of the door banging noisily shut woke Minerva so suddenly she was upright and groping for her wand before she realised what was happening. 

"Happy New Year!"

Remus beamed at her from the doorway, his face red from a combination of the cold and Madam Rosmerta's best Hogsmeade bitter, not to mention a round of champagne at midnight and a glass of cherry brandy for the walk home.

"Happy New Year," Minerva muttered weakly. "Honestly, Remus, did you have to wake the whole castle up? It took me long enough to get to sleep as it was."

"Sorry."

Hastily he removed his hat, gloves and travelling cloak and deposited them in an untidy heap on her dresser. Minerva was already starting to regret her sharp words. She watched him glance worriedly at her as he undressed and before she could help herself her eyes were welling up.

Instantly he was beside her.

"Minerva? What on earth's the matter?"

She reached out blindly through her tears and he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close and rocking her gently in his arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered after a moment. "I don't know what's the matter with me lately."

"You're not well," Remus said decisively. "That's what's the matter with you."

He frowned suddenly.

"Severus hasn't been upsetting you again, has he? Because if he has I'll-"

"You'll what?" she inquired icily, fixing him with the chilly stare she usually reserved for her students.

Remus shrugged cheerfully.

"I'll talk to Dumbledore. Maybe make a formal complaint."

"It's not Severus. But Remus…"

"What?"

"Why would Severus say that Sirius tried to kill him?"

Remus frowned, his eyes growing suddenly dark at the memory.

"When did he say that?"

"I don't know. Why? Is it true?"

"I suppose so. It depends on how you look at it, really."

And he told her the story of the trick Sirius had played on Snape the year after she had left Hogwarts. He hadn't been aware of it when it happened – he'd already been in the Shrieking Shack when Sirius, behaving in his usual impulsive manner, had told Severus Snape the secret of the Whomping Willow. It had been left to Peter to explain why James and Sirius weren't speaking to each other the following day.

Minerva listened in silence. She hadn't thought for a second that Severus had been telling the truth. But now that Remus had explained what had happened something else was starting to make sense.

"That was why you left, wasn't it?" she said at last.

"What do you mean?"

He got up from the bed and went to wash and change, leaving the bathroom door open so that they could carry on talking.

"When you left school. You went travelling, you said you wanted to find a cure."

There was a long pause from the bathroom and Minerva heard the sound of water running. She waited patiently until at last he emerged, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.

"Yes," he admitted. "That was why."

He extinguished the candles with a wave of his wand and climbed into bed beside her, pulling the covers back over them both and snuggling close.

"James and Sirius were particularly close. James said it was just a prank and no harm had come of it. But it wasn't so simple for me. Snape knew my secret and I could have killed him and James. Sirius was always irresponsible and didn't think about what might happen. He charged straight in. Up until then we'd been thoughtless. But I couldn't let go of it. Every time I saw James or Severus I couldn't stop thinking I might have been attending their funerals. So I left. I didn't want to be the one that wrecked our friendship."

"But you came back…" she whispered.

"Yes. When I saw Sirius again I realised how much I missed him. I missed them all – they were my best friends… my only friends. They stood by me despite what I am. And I realised it didn't matter any more. I forgave him… and then I found out the horrible truth."

Minerva felt her eyes welling up again at the thought of her beloved alone once more: two of his friends dead and the third a traitor of the worst possible kind. It seemed so unfair to her that Remus had been cruelly abandoned by the magical world for something that he had had no choice in and that had never caused him to harm another living being. 

She felt her lover's hand reach out through the darkness to softly caress her cheek, stiffening suddenly when he felt the wetness of her tears.

"Oh darling, don't cry," he whispered. "It doesn't matter now. Not now I've got you. You're better than any cure."

His words and the warmth of his body against hers comforted Minerva considerably. She knew she couldn't make up for what had happened to Remus in the past, or predict what the future held for him, but she knew she'd do whatever was in her power to protect him.

"I love you," she said quietly. "I'll always be with you."

Remus said nothing but wrapped his arms more closely around her and nuzzled his head against her shoulder. She relaxed, feeling the tension drain from her body. She was tired and now - at last - she was drowsy.

From somewhere distant she heard Remus say: "There's something else I need to tell you about Sirius." 

And then she fell asleep.

* * * * *

The new term began a few days later. Overnight the castle transformed, its silent, almost eerie corridors bustling once more with noisy activity. Fires were lit in the classrooms in preparation for lessons and their warmth pervaded the entire school, with the exception of the dungeons, which seemed as dank and gloomy as ever. Even the ghosts seemed in better spirits.

In the staffroom Minerva prepared for her first class with excitement. Even after a dozen years of teaching she still derived immense pleasure from her job. Her first class that morning was the Hufflepuff first year group who would no doubt have forgotten all they'd been taught the previous term in the excitement and festivities of the Christmas break and would be too thrilled about seeing their friends again to really concentrate on any proper work. Instead Minerva was planning a revision session. Transfiguring apples into toffees wasn't normally something she encouraged but as a one-off treat for the group she was prepared to make an exception.

"Where's Lover Boy this morning, then?"

Severus Snape's caustic tones cut through Minerva's reverie. She looked up to see him towering over her with his usual malevolent expression. The swelling and bruising to his nose had completely healed, aided no doubt by one of Poppy's mysterious ointments. She suspected, though, that the psychological wounds had not.

"I'm not his mother," she said aloud. "I expect he's probably upstairs getting his classroom ready, don't you?"

"Are you sure about that?"

Impatiently she gathered her lesson notes and stood to leave.

"As I have explained to you before, Severus, I love Remus. And part of loving someone is trusting them. A big part, as a matter of fact."

Severus scowled darkly. 

"I wish you would not persist in talking about love as something only you have experienced," he said irritably. "It might surprise you to learn-"

"Severus?" Venus Sinistra called from the doorway, oblivious to their conversation. "Can I talk to you about this rota? Because I really don't think it's fair."

"It's perfectly fair!" he snapped impatiently. "Look, bring it here and I'll show you."

As he turned Minerva stopped him with a hand on his forearm.

"Learn what?" she asked curiously.

He held her gaze for a moment.

"Never mind."

* * * * *

By the evening Minerva was exhausted – not because her day had been unpleasant but merely from the effort of trying to make four groups of high spirited children calm down and concentrate on their work. Even at dinner the Great Hall had been unusually raucous, though Minerva had been a little concerned to see that Hermione, Ron and Harry were still not speaking. But before she could dwell on the situation her train of thought had been disturbed by Remus asking if the seat next to her was taken. They'd talked through most of their meal, having hardly spoken all day. Finally they'd finished dessert and he'd suggested an early night. She'd been only too happy to accept and had followed him towards the stairs as soon as the hall started to empty.

Just as they reached the fourth floor landing a sudden wave of dizziness overtook Minerva and she had to grasp hold of the banisters in order to stay upright. She could hear Remus shouting in the distance, asking her if she was all right. A moment later she felt his arms around her shoulders as he lifted her up and then there was only darkness.

When she came round she was lying on her bed. Remus was leaning over her wearing an extremely concerned expression.

"Thanks goodness," he said with obvious relief. "I was just about to fetch Poppy."

"I'm fine. I was just a bit dizzy – that's all."

"No," Remus said firmly. "This has gone on long enough. Minerva, you're obviously not well and I'm tired of watching you suffer. I want you to promise me that tomorrow morning you'll go and see Poppy and find out what's wrong. Before it's too late."

There was a distinct note of desperation in his voice and Minerva felt a sudden twinge of guilt. She _was_ ill, she realised. And Remus was right: she needed to do something about it.

Gently she squeezed his hand.

"I'll see Poppy first thing," she agreed. "I promise." 


	9. The Truth At Last

__

Chapter Nine: The Truth At Last

* * * * *

Remus Lupin walked slowly down the grand staircase on his way to breakfast. Pale January sunlight fell listlessly through the stained glass and decorated the floor and stairs with watery patches of red and green, pitiful in comparison to the rich hues seen in September. Remus remembered it vividly from his first few weeks in the castle: autumn sunrises that had brought the whole castle alive with light, just as Hogwarts was bringing _him_ alive. For the first time he'd felt welcome and wanted. He'd spent a fair amount of his free time wandering the grounds, reminiscing about the more enjoyable times he'd had at school: mischievous pranks and midnight explorations. Only the dark, brooding forms of the Dementors stationed at the gates and the threat they represented served to encroach upon his otherwise cheerful mood. And then he'd found her…

He'd awoken alone this morning. He'd hoped that this was because Minerva had stayed true to her promise to visit the hospital wing and seek Poppy's advice. Sure enough, a note she'd left confirmed it. It was probably just 'flu, he reasoned. A dose or two of Pepper Up potion and she'd be back to her usual self. 

But still… 

He was feeling distinctly uneasy in a way he hadn't been up until she'd finally agreed to find out was wrong. It felt like their moment of truth was approaching but only now, walking downstairs to breakfast alone, had it occurred to him that that was what it was. And it wasn't her present absence in itself so much as the unknown threat that bothered him. 

It seemed too good to be true that someone like him had found love with someone like her. He didn't deserve her. Part of his subconscience was convinced that the bubble would soon burst. He'd been alone for years. He'd survive being alone again, though he knew he'd find it hard after this. What he wouldn't survive – what he was so desperately afraid of – wasn't that. It was that he'd have to watch her suffer. And even worse: if he had to watch her suffer because of him.

* * * * *

After an unusually light breakfast Remus abandoned any thought of spending his free morning working and instead decided to take the opportunity to wander down to Hogsmeade. He needed a new quill and if nothing else it would help pass the time. 

When he went upstairs to fetch his cloak and scarf there was no sign of Minerva. The bed was still in the same rumpled state he'd left it in: an unsettling sight since usually she'd be remaking it as soon as she'd scolded him out of it. He'd never been a morning person; Minerva would be up, dressed and ready to leave before he could even contemplate getting up. Until recently, anyway.

Outside the castle the wintry sunshine seemed surprisingly bright. The snow had long since melted leaving only a grey-brown mush that did nothing to enhance the bare winter scenery and he trudged downheartedly down the driveway towards the gates. The sight of the Dementors stationed there reminded him of his earlier promise to Harry and he wondered again how he could possibly help the boy. He hadn't yet told Minerva of his plans to show Harry the Patronus charm (another secret, his subconscious whispered treacherously) and in his heart he wasn't even sure if Harry would be capable of such advanced magic. 

I should never have said anything, he told himself. I've got his hopes up and he'll probably feel even worse if I let him down now.

But I just couldn't bear to watch him suffer…

He'd assumed Harry's fears were relatively minor. He hadn't expected his confession of what really went through his mind when the Dementors came close. Suddenly it made sickening sense that Harry's Boggart would be a Dementor.

As he reached the outskirts of the village it struck him. The Boggart. Of course. It would have the same effect as a real Dementor with the added bonus that Remus would easily be able to control it if Harry found it too disturbing. 

Feeling a little more cheerful, Remus took his time perusing the shops. Gladrags were having a sale and for a moment he was sorely tempted by a smart set of robes displayed in the window. At half price he could just about afford to… but no. The clothes he had were perfectly comfortable even if they were a bit shabby. There would be more important things to spend his money on. 

Dervish and Banges had a decent range of quills and he quickly picked a suitable one – plain but serviceable. A tartan tin caught his eye in Honeydukes and he immediately bought it for Minerva, whose pride in her Scottish roots only just took second place to her house spirit. 

After an hour's browsing he contemplated heading into the Three Broomsticks for a quick drink but then decided against it. If he left now he would be back in time to catch Minerva between classes. He'd be able to find out what Poppy had told her and the sooner he got that over with, the better. 

* * * * *

His cheeks red from the cold, Remus arrived outside the transfiguration classroom just as the bell rang. He'd had to jog part of the way to get back in time. Within moments the corridor was filled with chattering Ravenclaw students, most of whom acknowledged Remus with a polite smile or wave.

But when the classroom was finally empty there was no sign of Minerva. Instead Venus Sinistra was gathering her belongings ready to depart. She beamed warmly at Remus but her smiled faded abruptly when she saw the look of confusion on his face.

"She's not here, Remus," Venus told him before he could open his mouth to ask. 

"Is she all right?"

She shrugged, her bracelets jangling.

"I haven't seen her. Albus asked me if I'd take the class because she wasn't feeling well and I used to be quite interested in transfiguration-"

"Oh right. Thanks."

Remus was even more worried now.

"But I thought you-" she called after him, but the rest of her sentence was lost as he rounded the corner.

* * * * *

"Minerva? Minerva, are you-"

As he opened the door there was a sudden crash. 

"MINERVA?"

His wand was in his hand before he could even think about it and he pushed the door wide open, but once inside he found only Minerva. She was kneeling on the floor having dropped half the pieces of the chess set she'd apparently been tidying away. Now she was frantically trying to gather up pawns, kings and knights from where they had rolled under the furniture. Her hair was loose and beneath her cloak she was still wearing her dressing gown.

Feeling a little embarrassed, Remus hastily put his wand away and stooped down to help her. 

"Minerva?" he said more gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said vaguely. "Nothing's wrong. I'm… fine. I just slipped."

She did not meet his gaze. Minerva rarely 'just slipped': even in human form there was a curiously feline grace about her movements.

"Were you feeling dizzy again?" he prompted. "What did Poppy say?"

"She's doing a test."

"What kind of a test?"

"I don't know."

She's lying, Remus thought. But why? 

He opened his mouth to press her further but then thought better of it. She'd always respected his privacy. The least he could do was return the favour. Instead he decided he'd talk to her in the evening when she'd had a chance to calm down a little. Maybe they could go out for dinner…

Minerva finished packing the chess pieces away and returned the box to its rightful place on the bookshelf. He noticed her hands tremble and suddenly felt anxious again.

"You would tell me, wouldn't you? If there was anything wrong, I mean."

She glanced over at him briefly, then back at the bookcase. For a moment she stood frozen, her head bowed like a chastised student, breathing slowly and deliberately.

Was this another attack of dizziness or was she just losing patience with him? Remus couldn't tell. But just as he was about to reach out to her she abruptly turned to face him, taking his hand in hers and gently squeezing it in an attempt to reassure him.

"I don't think there's anything wrong."

He frowned.

"Then why-"

"Please, Remus," she interrupted. "I really need you to be patient. As soon as I know anything for certain I'll tell you."

"If you're sure."

Still uneasy, he left.

* * * * *

The rest of the afternoon drifted past at an excruciatingly slow speed. Remus did his best to concentrate but found it impossible to immerse himself in his classes as he usually did. Instead he kept one eye on the clock, watching the hands slowly turn.

He went back to check on her before dinner but once again her rooms were empty. A quick check behind the bathroom door showed him that her dressing gown was also still absent. Did this mean she wasn't coming to dinner? Probably, he decided. But if there was nothing wrong, why was it taking so long?

At dinner Remus took a seat at the far end of the high table and sat in pensive silence, unable to stop his mind wandering into dark places. Surely there couldn't be anything seriously wrong… could there? She didn't seem that ill, just tired a lot, and dizzy and more tearful than usual. But maybe that was what she was always like. After all, he'd only really known her for a few months.

"Anyone sitting here?"

Venus' good-natured tones cut through his reverie. Remus looked up to see her gesturing meaningfully at the chair next to his.

"No," he admitted. "Go ahead."

Venus did not share Minerva's liking for plain, functional robes. She always changed for dinner and on this particularly evening was decked out in vivid fuschia, complete with matching lipstick. Remus suspected the lipstick was charmed; certainly he'd never seen it smudge or fade, even after a three-course dinner.

"How's Minerva?" she asked before she'd even completely sat down. "Is everything all right? I'm not trying to be nosy, it's just that you seemed really worried earlier and you didn't know where Minerva was and I thought you two were really close…"

In the face of his silence she trailed off abruptly.

"Sorry. It's none of my business, is it? I'll be quiet now. Or do you want me to move?"

"I didn't think anyone cared."

"Oh. Well, we do. I do, anyway. I don't like to see people unhappy. And I can see she's happy."

"Really?"

Despite himself Remus was curious. He'd never stopped to consider how they looked through the eyes of the rest of the faculty. After all, they were careful to keep their behaviour strictly professional whenever they were outside the privacy of her rooms. Minerva hadn't even so much as kissed him in public – well, apart from just before Christmas when she'd had a little too much to drink at the Three Broomsticks. 

Venus smiled at his eagerness.

"Irma used to find her asleep in the library some mornings and if she wasn't there she'd be telling someone off for being out of bed. We used to joke that Minerva didn't even have a bed. Of course, that's changed since she's had you to keep her busy – if you know what I mean!"

Venus winked suggestively at him and he felt himself blushing. 

"What about you?" Remus asked, trying to change the subject. "Are you seeing anyone at the moment?"

"No, not really."

"What does 'not really' mean?"

"Well, Severus… occupies me… from time to time but I- what?"

Remus choked on his gravy.

"Severus?!" he spluttered eventually. "You mean to tell me that you and Severus are..?"

"In a relationship?" Venus suggested, smiling innocently.

"Yes."

"No. Nothing as serious as that. We just… enjoy each other's company. Now and again. Don't look so shocked. You'd be amazed what goes on here that people don't know about."

"Apparently yes," Remus muttered, feeling a little dazed. Concerned as he was about Minerva, Venus' completely unexpected revelation was just a little too much to handle. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know what Snape got up to in his spare time. Although… given how much Snape knew about what Remus and Minerva did in _their_ spare time, the information might come in useful in the future. Remus wondered if Minerva knew, and then started worrying about her again.

It was definitely time to change the subject.

"How long have you worked at Hogwarts?" he asked politely.

It was hardly the most imaginative of questions but Venus didn't seem to mind. She promptly launched into a colourful and detailed description of her career to date, beginning with her graduation some nine years earlier and finishing with an invitation for him to attend one of her astronomy N.E.W.T. classes so that he could see just how wonderful the subject truly was. 

Remus was extremely grateful when dessert was finally served. He ate quickly and was about to make his excuses when Venus announced that she, too, was ready to depart and would he be so kind as to escort her back to the grand staircase?

Remus stared at her in horror. Had she mistaken his attempts to be friendly for something more? 

"No, not that," Venus said hastily. "It's just that I can see Severus looking this way and it'll make him jealous and when he's jealous he's rather more attentive."

* * * * *

Some ten minutes later Remus finally escaped to his office. Feeling half shocked and half amused he started leafing through the piles of paperwork on his desk but then remembered his earlier idea about finding a Boggart for Harry to practice on. 

In the evening the classrooms would all be empty, making it an ideal time to check cupboards and closets for Boggarts. Feeling a little more determined Remus started in the nearby History of Magic classroom and then moved along to the adjacent office and storeroom. But by eight o'clock he had already abandoned his halfhearted search. The castle was riddled with secret passageways and hidden rooms, not to mention closets whose contents varied depending on which day of the week you opened them. The shapeshifting nature of a Boggart meant that it could not be shown by any kind of search charm or map; as soon as it sensed the influence of the spell it would turn itself into solid wood, or even dust. No, Remus decided. It would make far more sense to ask at breakfast whether any of the staff had heard one. 

The pile of homework parchments awaiting him in his office could not evoke any interest. Instead he decided to go to bed. 

As he climbed the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower Remus was again struck by how safe he felt within the castle. Even the distant howls and screeches from the Forbidden Forest could not be heard once inside its thick stone walls. In Minerva's rooms the fire hungrily swallowed the chill of this bitter January and when at last the fire was damped down and they went to bed they kept each other warm. Remus had not known the joy of sharing his bed with another prior to coming to Hogwarts but he'd never slept as soundly as he did here, safe in the knowledge that Minerva would still be beside him in the morning. 

He quickened his step on the staircase. He'd been in Russia when James and Lily had married, ostensibly seeking intelligence for Dumbledore but secretly hoping to find a cure for his lycanthropy at the same time. Both they and the rest of the Order had already been in fear of their lives even before the emergence of the prophecy that had finally sealed their fate. Their love and their marriage had been as strong as any Remus had even known but it hadn't been enough to save them.

It was enough to save Harry though, Remus reminded himself. The last time he'd seen James and Lily had been the first time he'd met Harry. James had been so proud as he introduced his new son to one of his oldest friends. Remus had held Harry and felt strangely envious – not because he begrudged them their happiness but because he knew it was an experience he'd most likely never have. 

And then he remembered Minerva's expression the first time he'd kissed her, and the loneliness and the longing and so many lost years all bound up in sorrow for the past but hope… only hope for the future. 'Make love to me', she'd whispered. In that moment he'd surrendered completely and in doing so given away a part of him that he'd thought no one would ever want: his heart. 

And it didn't matter if she didn't want to tell him what Poppy had said just yet. It didn't matter if she never told him just as long as she loved him and just as long as they were together. He'd tell her that now, just as soon as he saw her. 

Remus finally reached the tapestry that masked the door to Minerva's suite and muttered the spell to temporarily sever it. Eager anticipation thrummed like electricity through his veins as he stepped through the entrance.

Against all expectation, however, the living room was as cold and dark as the dungeons. There was no sign of Minerva.

With growing desperation Remus checked the bedroom and the bathroom. How could she still not be back? Where was she? Why hadn't she at least left him a message? The hastily scribbled note from this morning remained where he'd left it on her desk but there was no later addendum, no clue as to why she had seemed so distant. No reason for her to still be absent now.

He'd vowed to be patient. But how could she just vanish without even telling him where she was? She must have known he'd be worried.

Reaching a decision at last, Remus turned and retraced his steps leaving the door to slam loudly behind him.

* * * * *

Three floors below and at the far end of a rather long corridor the hospital wing slumbered in peaceful silence. Despite his impatience Remus took care to open the door quietly. Poppy Pomfrey was known as a caring and dedicated nurse but her wrath towards anyone who disturbed her patients unnecessarily was legendary. 

"Who's there?"

Remus grimaced; he'd obviously not been quiet enough. 

"It's Professor Lupin, Madam Pomfrey. I'm looking for Minerva. Is she here?"

Poppy appeared from her office, peering suspiciously at him in the light of the lamp she held. Once she'd ascertained his identity she nodded politely.

"I was wondering when you'd be up," she remarked. "Could have done with you being here earlier as it happens but no, she insisted on waiting. There's no telling some people."

"So she is here?"

"Oh, she's here all right. Did she tell you anything at all?"

"She said there was a test but she wouldn't tell me what for."

Poppy tutted loudly.

"That's Minerva. Can't see the wood for the trees sometimes. She didn't believe me when I told her, you know. She insisted on the test. And what happened? I was right, of course."

"What test?"

Remus was starting to lose patience. Poppy's I-know-best attitude could be endearing at times but not when you wanted her to get to the point in a hurry.

"Honestly, you're worse than some of the first years. I promise you there is absolutely nothing wrong with Minerva."

"Poppy," he said through gritted teeth. "Would you please just tell me what's going on."

She sighed theatrically. 

"Well, I suppose you have a right to know. Assuming, of course, that it was you who-"

"Poppy!"

"Remus, she's pregnant."

There was silence.

"What? I mean… she's what? But that's impossible!"

Poppy surveyed him solemnly. 

"I assure you it isn't," she remarked sternly. "Perhaps you should have paid more attention in my sixth year health talk instead of sniggering in the back with those three friends of yours."

Trust her to bring that up, Remus thought.

"I was paying attention," he muttered. "I didn't mean like that. I just thought she was…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Well, if it's any consolation I think it came as quite a shock to Minerva too."

Remus sighed heavily and ran his hands through his hair. 

"So where is she?" he asked quietly.

"She's asleep. She's been worrying too much and sleeping too little – nothing out of the ordinary there, I might add – but she needs to rest as much as possible now. I've given her a sedative potion. I kept her up here so that I could keep an eye on her. Well, what are you waiting for?"

He followed Poppy out of her office. 

"You'll need to make sure she doesn't overdo things in future," she continued. "And she must eat sensibly as well. I've told her time and time again she should look after herself better but now it's vital. None of this staying in the library and missing dinner nonsense now, you mark my words!"

Remus was not really listening. His attention was already focused on the far end of the ward where the curtains were drawn tightly around a single bed.

Sure enough, Poppy marched straight over, swept the curtains aside and beckoned him through.

Minerva was lying on her side facing away from him. In the soft lamplight she looked pale and fragile. Deep, dreamless sleep had softened the sharpness of her expression and once again he saw the woman he loved. 

The woman he loved who was pregnant with his child.

Pregnant.

With his child.

Slowly, silently he sank down into a nearby chair. Unlike Venus Sinistra, Poppy Pomfrey apparently knew when to give someone a little space and she carefully placed the lamp on the bedside table and slipped quietly away. 

"Minerva," he whispered. 

She seemed so far away. Why hadn't she told him?

She was pregnant…

Remus slid his hand beneath the sheets and placed it gently over her belly, barely exerting any pressure. He tried to picture the tiny life taking form inside. His son, or perhaps his daughter. Their daughter.

And he wondered how he felt at this entirely unexpected news.

They'd never even discussed having children. Oh, he'd known it wasn't impossible but he'd also known that Poppy had supplied her with a potion. She hadn't mentioned it, presumably because there were some things she liked to keep private. 

His mind took him back again to visiting James and Lily when Harry was just a few weeks old. He still remembered vividly the joy and excitement on their faces as they'd introduced him to their son. They'd been living in fear for months and it hadn't been an easy pregnancy for Lily. But Harry had made their lives complete even so.

And now…

And now it was his turn. Their turn. Their turn to be happy. Their turn to hold their own child in their arms and be a family, a real family at last. Who was to say that they couldn't be like Arthur and Molly Weasley and have their own brood? Why stop at one? Remus' imagination took him from one child to five: smiling faces around the breakfast table, the laughter of excited children, maybe a house in Hogsmeade…

But his joy was tempered by his memory of Minerva's expression earlier that day. She'd seemed tense and worried. And she'd lied to him about the pregnancy test… 

Obviously she liked children. He knew she'd been worrying about Hermione, as she worried about all of her students when for whatever reason they were unhappy. But there was a big difference between liking children and having children of your own. How would it change things? Would she want to keep her job? Would she be able to? Could he really see her fussing over nappies and toys instead of essays and administration?

What if she didn't want this?

What did she want?

He buried his head in his hands. If you'd only told me, he thought. We could have talked about it. And I would have known how you felt. What you wanted. 

And if she didn't want what he wanted, what then?

Our child…

His head spun.

Perhaps it would be best to leave her alone, he reasoned. She obviously hadn't wanted him there, after all. She'd talk to him when she was ready. And if what she said wasn't what he wanted to hear… well, he'd worry about that later.

Slowly, sadly, Remus Lupin got to his feet and started the long walk back upstairs to bed.


	10. Everything Changes

Dedicated to Sasha (again!) for words of reassurance and for introducing me to Vienna Teng's 'The Tower' – a Minerva song if ever I heard one!  

~

**Chapter Ten****: Everything Changes**

The hospital wing slumbered peacefully through the early hours of the morning, it's only occupant sleeping soundly.  Not even the moonlight could penetrate the heavy drapes that covered the high windows, and darkness filled the ward like a velvet blanket, calm and comforting.  

It was rare that the ward was this empty though.  In any facility where magic is taught to the young, accidents occur with a sometimes worrying frequency.  Last week alone Poppy Pomfrey had been faced with a sixth year boy who'd managed to splice himself with a pot plant, two broomstick crashes and a whole class of Hufflepuffs who'd inadvertently exploded a cauldron full of shrinking solution.  Add in visitors and concerned staff and sometimes it was as noisy and bustling up here as in one of the house common rooms, much to Poppy's dismay.  The school nurse was a firm believer in the value of a good night's sleep and it was for this reason that her most recent patient was still on the ward.

It was still pitch dark when Minerva McGonagall finally awoke and she lay with her eyes closed for a while, relishing the warmth of the snug feather bedspread that safely insulated her from the pre-dawn chill.  She hadn't slept this well in ages, and certainly not during term time.  Even if she wasn't rudely awakened to deal with some misdemeanour or midnight crisis, her head would still be filled with thoughts of duty schedules, lesson preparation and paperwork.  If she remembered anything she hadn't done she'd have to get up and scribble a quick note in the spare diary she kept on her desk.  It was a habit that drove Remus crazy.  In much the same way, _his_ nighttime habit of throwing his handkerchief on the floor to remind him of an important task had a similar effect on her.  It was something they often teased each other about.

Where was Remus, anyway?  She'd swiftly become used to waking beside him and was no longer startled to find an arm slung across her middle or an extra pair of feet resting firmly against her own.  When he wasn't there, when the full moon kept them apart… then it felt curiously strange to have the bed to herself.  But full moon was another two weeks away, wasn't it?

Even as she came further awake she still could not solve the puzzle.  Remus wasn't here but she couldn't remember why not.  All she could recall was that something had changed, something to do with her.  Something had happened that had changed her whole life forever.

But what?

She swung her feet over the side of the bed and then winced in shock as they landed on cold tile instead of the soft carpet she'd been expecting.

And then she remembered.

* * * * *

Remus was asleep when she crept quietly back into their bedroom.  He lay sprawled on top of the bedspread still fully clothed, and she felt a wave of affection at the sight of his weary face.  I can't even leave you for a day, she thought fondly.  She wanted to wake him, to feel his arms around her and hear him tell her he loved her.  To share one last moment of blissful ignorance before she shared with him the truth that would turn their lives upside down forever.  But she knew he'd been worrying about her.  He needed his rest.  And she had more important things to think about.

She closed the bathroom door as quietly as she could before turning on the bath taps.  Normally she'd add a liberal splash of scented oil and fetch a book or journal to read while she bathed.  If she was feeling particularly indulgent she'd have a glass or two of wine, or some of Cynthia Sprout's home brewed fruit liqueur.  Albus had denied all knowledge of the still tucked away in the back of Greenhouse Six but Minerva was not fooled.  The Headmaster's sweet tooth was legendary: as long as Cynthia's extracurricular activities went unnoticed by the students and the Ministry he would be more than happy to turn a blind eye.  And Cynthia was highly skilled.  Rumour had it that she was currently in negotiations with Rosmerta to supply the Three Broomsticks.

Not that Minerva would be enjoying any of it for the time being.  

When the tub was finally full she slipped off her dressing gown and borrowed nightdress and slid gently into the water, feeling its warmth caress her skin.  It was such a familiar sensation and normally a relaxing one as well.  Only now it felt new, like she'd never experienced it before.  Different.  Like she was.

So…

Pregnant.

She hadn't been expecting that, not for a moment.  When she'd thought about it all the signs had been there: the tiredness, the mood swings and the odd tastes.  It had been obvious to Poppy immediately, too.  She'd tried to be as tactful as possible but Minerva had been left with the distinct impression that the older woman was secretly delighted at the news.

And she hadn't believed it herself…

It was simply too unthinkable.  Professor McGonagall pregnant?  Ridiculous.  The Deputy Headmistress who dished out homework and detentions daily a mother?  Absurd.  The tough, trusted Head of Gryffindor House with a child of her own?  Impossible.  

But apparently it wasn't.

She thought about it for a while, trying to imagine what it would be like to hold a baby that was her own.  To spend her evenings singing nursery rhymes and changing nappies.  To bathe and dress her daughter each morning and tuck her up to sleep each night. 

As hard as she tried, though, the images wouldn't come.  It was just too far from what she was used to.

Last week everything had seemed to be settling down.  Though the uncertainty posed by Sirius Black still hovered ominously in the distance, the reality of no longer being alone had occupied far greater importance in her mind.  They'd weathered the storm of Severus' distrust and overcome their own uncertainties about each other.  She'd learnt to trust him, to be comfortable with him.  Remus was happy in his new role: he'd have no reason to leave.  He was being paid well to do a job that he enjoyed and the effects of the Wolfsbane Potion combined with wholesome meals were making him look healthier by the day.  Possibilities stretched out in front of Minerva: possibilities of working here and living here together for years to come.  

Now she was cursing her own naivety.  She'd forgotten her potion, or the potion hadn't worked, or _something_ and now there were unavoidable consequences.

She shifted slightly and the warm water rippled gently over her stomach.  Was it her imagination or had it already grown a little rounder?  A little softer?  Tentatively she placed her hand over it and tried to picture the life that lay within.  A baby.  Her baby.  Her daughter.  Their daughter.  She ran the words through her head in countless combinations, trying to make them seem real.  

When you were pregnant you could feel the baby move, couldn't you?  How long before that happened?  She would have to ask Poppy.  Maybe there was a book she could read...

She sighed.

It was no use getting sentimental about it.  Remus was going to be horrified when he found out.  Albus probably would be too though she doubted he'd let it show.  Severus… ha!  Severus would be delighted and he'd probably make sure the rest of the faculty knew as well.  And Severus had a nasty knack for learning things you didn't want him to know.

The question was, what were they going to do?  Remus had never so much as mentioned ever having children.  Minerva knew he loved his new job but teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts to reasonably well-behaved students was a far cry from changing nappies and being woken in the night by a screaming baby.  And then there was his lycanthropy to consider.  It didn't have to be a problem but she knew he was sensitive about it.  He wouldn't want a baby, not when there was a risk that he could turn his own child into a werewolf – however small that risk might be.

Would he leave her?  He wouldn't.  At least she didn't think so.  But she could manage on her own if he did.  She'd have to give up her job but she had savings and Albus wouldn't let her starve.  She'd survive somehow…

But probably he wouldn't leave.  He'd just grow more and more distant until she'd wish that he _had_ left.

The tears welled up before she could stop them and she sobbed desperately into the bathwater for a few moments before the more rational side of her subconscious overcame the influence of the pregnancy hormones and she calmed down.  There was no sense in getting upset.  She couldn't change what had happened and she certainly couldn't afford to indulge her emotions now.  She had to start making plans.  And most importantly she had to tell Remus.

Get it over with, she told herself firmly.  Go and wake him up and tell him _now_.  That's the very least you owe him.

Still, it was easier said than done.  She took a deep breath and carefully got to her feet, fingers groping blindly along the edge of the tub in search of her towel.  

There was no sign of it.

She heard a soft cough behind her and when she looked round, Remus was standing just inside the doorway holding her clean towel and looking absolutely distraught.  

For a moment they both stood frozen.  The sight of Minerva naked and dripping wet did not appear to have had its usual effect on Remus.  Instead he stared sadly at her, reminding her so much of a lost first year she'd first clapped eyes on a lifetime ago.  

For a moment her heart broke, and then the cold hit her and she shivered violently.

"Remus, I-"

"I know," he interrupted tersely.  "Poppy told me."

He met her with the towel as she stepped out of the tub.

"I know this-"

"You probably don't-"

"Go on," they both said simultaneously.

"I-"

But words that were normally within easy grasp had now deserted her.  Remus started to dry her, rubbing the towel gently over her shoulders and then each arm in turn.  All of his attention was focused on his task and he frowned in concentration, taking care of her breasts and back in turn.  The towel dropped lower and she shivered once more as the cold air hit her skin but waited patiently.  He'd speak when he was ready.  And as long as he didn't, well, at least he wasn't telling her the things she didn't want to hear.

Remus reached her stomach and abruptly stopped.  Slowly he crouched down.    

Minerva closed her eyes and waited for him to get to his feet and walk away.

She was starting to feel off balance again, dizzy like before only not like before.  Different, because she was different, because everything was different.  

She felt the soft press of his lips against her skin and gasped.

"Minerva?" 

"What?"

She opened her eyes and looked down at him, still with the towel in his hands and his head nuzzled against her belly.  He returned her gaze, his lips moving slightly as he tried to find the words he needed.

Here we are, she thought.  Two educated, intelligent adults who have been sharing a bed and our lives for months now and we can't even find the words to tell each other how we really feel.  Is this how it's going to be from now on?  Both of us afraid of each other?

Not if I can do anything about it, she decided.

"What?" she repeated a little more firmly.  

Still he gaped at her.

There was only one thing for it.  She took a deep breath and turned the full force of one of her infamous icy glares on him.

"For goodness sake, Remus Lupin!  Kindly stop impersonating a goldfish and tell me honestly what it is that you want or I'll-"

"Honestly?"

Minerva nodded resolutely and folded her arms.

"I want to be a father," Remus said hoarsely.  "Minerva, I know we need to talk about this properly but please, please don't do anything you might regret."

"I don't know what to do," she said sadly.

Was this really what he wanted?  Could he make such a huge decision just like that?  It felt like forever since that stormy evening in October but the reality was that they'd only known each other – _really_ known each other – for just a few short months.  Was that long enough?  How could she be sure?  Suddenly it wasn't just their own lives they were making decisions about.  It frightened her to have this responsibility.  This knowledge that whatever decision they made, whatever they chose to do, the consequences would be hers to bear for the rest of her life.

How could she have never thought about this before?

How could something so small have such an incredible bearing on her life?

She needed to think, needed space, needed time, needed _something_.  She turned abruptly away from Remus and took the last few steps into her bedroom.  He'd already lit the fire and she was grateful for its radiating heat and the warm glow it brought to the room.  Within these four walls was everything she'd strived for, everything she needed.  Remus had made her life complete.  She didn't need this.  She was enough without it.  They were enough.  They were happy, for goodness sake.

"Minerva?"

Remus was standing patiently where she'd left him, still holding her towel.  Waiting for her.

"How can you be sure?" she burst out, running her hands through her damp hair in exasperation.  "How can you know?  What if everything changes?  _What are you going to do then?_"

"Everything _will_ change," he said with infuriating calm.  "And I love you.  Those are the only things I'm sure of."

He folded the towel neatly into four and hung it back on the rail in the bathroom, then took her tartan dressing gown from the hook on the back of the door and brought it through the bedroom for her.  She took it reluctantly and he sat down and observed her solemnly from his side of the bed.

"All I ever wanted was a family of my own.  James said that the first time he saw Harry was the most incredible day of his life.  He said that until you're a parent you can't know what it's like to hold your own child and know that you'd go to ends of the earth and back again for them.  I wanted so badly to know what that was like.  I didn't think I ever would, but I never stopped thinking about it.  Until…"

He trailed off.

Minerva's curiosity couldn't stand the suspense.

"What?" she asked softly.

"Until I found you.  Minerva, you make me feel normal.  You make me feel better than normal.  I don't know why, or what it was I did that made me deserve you but… if you only knew how I felt you'd know that I _am_ sure.  You're giving me everything I ever wanted.  I'd marry you tomorrow if I thought that was what you wanted and I'd never, ever regret it."

"What if it's not that easy?" 

She could feel the tears filling her eyes again.  She hated herself for being weak and wished she could match his calm.

"Come here."

Reluctantly she went to the bed.  He gestured for her to sit and drew her into his arms, rubbing his hands soothingly over her shoulders.

"Nothing in my life has been easy.  And… I know I'm not perfect.  Well, not even close to perfect.  I know I'm probably not the kind of man you dreamed you'd end up spending your life with.  Hell, I can't even afford to buy you a ring-"

"I don't want a ring."

"Then what...?"

"All I want is you."

"Is that a yes?"

She wanted to say it, wanted to tell him that yes, she'd marry him.  She wanted to believe what he was saying: that everything was fine and that this was a good thing, this was what they wanted.

But still it seemed too good to be true.

She took a deep breath.

"I don't know.  This has all happened so fast.  I just… need time to think.  To adjust."

She could tell he was disappointed.

"I'm not saying no," she added hastily.

Remus said nothing but continued to stroke her back.  His presence soothed her frayed nerves considerably; his calm demeanour inferred a matching stillness in her own.  Settled in his arms with her head on his chest she could hear his heart beating and she wondered what on earth it was that had made her feel so afraid.  

He lifted one hand to the nape of her neck and gently teased at her hair, separating the damp strands with his fingers. 

"In nine months we're going to be here together.  You'll be hot and tired and sore but you won't care because I'll be right here beside you and Poppy will be passing you our baby.  Our child, Minerva.  We'll hold him together and see who he looks like most and we'll have the rest of our lives to get to know him and love him.

"Her," Minerva said without thinking.  

"What?"

"It's a girl.  Poppy told me this morning."

"A girl," he echoed thoughtfully.  "We're having a girl."

"But…"

Remus laughed good-naturedly.

"There's always a 'but' with you!  But what?"

She hesitated for a moment before blurting it out.

"What if I'm no good at being a mother?"

"You'll be a wonderful mother," he said with absolute conviction.  "I'm sure of it.  Look at how you take care of me.  How you care about your students.  This little girl is going to have two parents who adore her and who would do anything to protect her and look after her.  That's as much as any child could want."

Parents, she thought.  We're going to be parents.  And one day we'll be buying our daughter her Hogwarts books and robes and she'll be a student here just like we were.  

"I can't believe this is real," she whispered.  "How can it be real?  How can I suddenly have everything I gave up dreaming about in no time at all?"

"Don't you think I've been asking myself that every day for the last three months?" Remus said softly.  "It's real, Minerva.  It's real because we love each other.  Because we've found each other."

He embraced her tightly, burying his face in her still-damp hair.  Minerva had always thought of herself as strong but now it was his faith that was sustaining her and encouraging her to believe in herself.  The uncertainty she was feeling now seemed so alien, and it was precisely that strangeness that unsettled her so much.  Unlike Remus, she'd had only one job since leaving school, a job that was secure, well paid and comfortable.  She'd always had good food and a roof over her head.  She'd always done well.  Dumbledore had taken her under his wing from the start, encouraging her through the first few nerve-wracking years as she'd struggled to find her feet.  Slowly her confidence had grown.  She'd learnt how to command the classroom and the respect of her students.  Her natural talent for teaching and her desire to nurture and encourage her students had later led to her appointment first as Head of Gryffindor, then as Deputy Headmistress.  Life at Hogwarts was built around structure and routine, from the arrival of new students in September to the exams in June: each term as reliable as the four seasons and bringing only the expected.

Now she felt as if she'd just witnessed a snowstorm in the middle of July.  

But she wasn't alone.  

"Remus?" 

"What?"

She twisted in his embrace until she could claim his lips with hers.

"You are perfect to me."

Remus grinned.

"Stay there," he instructed.

"Where are you going?"

"To get the massage oil I bought you yesterday."

"Have we got time?  I mean, breakfast-"

"It'll be another two hours before the house elves even start laying the tables," Remus pointed out.  "Now stop complaining and take your dressing gown off."

* * * * *

By the time the first rays of sunlight slipped over the windowsill, Minerva was dressed and ready for breakfast.  From the bathroom she could hear Remus was humming to himself as he shaved.    

In the end it had been her that had given him the massage despite his insistence that he didn't deserve it.  He'd been patient, selfless and supportive at the time when she'd needed him most.  The news of her pregnancy had surely been a shock to him as well, yet he hadn't been angry with her for not telling him sooner, or questioned how she'd manage to cope.  He'd seen that the situation couldn't be changed and he'd chosen to make the best of it, for better or for worse.  Grateful for his support, she'd lavished him with attention.  Eventually one thing had lead to another, and when it was all over they'd dozed peacefully in each other's arms until it was time to rise.

Now she was up, Minerva was keen to get downstairs.  She'd missed a whole day of lessons and was anxious to get her files up to date.  She also needed to see Albus.  Keen not to repeat her earlier mistake, she was determined to inform him of her pregnancy before the sun set.  He'd given her the benefit of the doubt last time.  Now he deserved the truth.  With that in mind, she went to gather the papers she needed from her desk and was surprised to find a tin of biscuits sitting on top of it.

"What are these for?" she called.

"I got them for you in Hogsmeade.  They're called 'ginger newts'.  I thought you might like the tin."

"Oh."

She studied them a moment longer, then shrugged and added the tin to the pile of parchments in her arms.  The realisation that she was cradling her burden much as a mother would cradle a child stopped her short.  

Remus stuck his head through the doorway, his face still covered in lather.

"Shouldn't you have another day off?  Poppy told me you should rest."

"Do you really think I'd rest knowing there was work to be done?" she said lightly.  "Besides, I thought perhaps if I caught up with everything today we could go out for dinner tonight."

"I'd like that," he admitted.  "Rosmerta told me that she's doing a new menu for the New Year.  She's promised us free drinks if we come and try it and tell her what we think."

Minerva smiled warmly at his sheepish enthusiasm.

"Free drinks for you," she pointed out.  "It'll be Gillywater and orange juice for me from now on."

* * * * *

Once breakfast was over, Minerva went straight to her classroom.  Stacked on her desk were several folders and notes from the staff that had kindly stepped in to cover her lessons the previous day.  Venus had had no problems with the second year Ravenclaws, unsurprisingly.  Equally expected was a rather caustic note from Severus informing her that Fred and George Weasley would be enjoying detention with him for another week, or for as long as it took for them to learn how to behave properly in class.  The Slytherin third years, he added, had been a joy to teach.

Minerva made a mental note not to forget to thank Venus and to find out exactly what the Weasley twins had done.  A few sharp words from their own Head of House probably wouldn't make much difference but would be necessary nevertheless.  

With a wave of her wand the papers lifted up from the desk and filed themselves neatly on a nearby shelf ready for her to review later in the day.  The marks Venus and Severus had awarded in her absence would then be neatly transcribed into her ledgers using her favourite quill; one that would automatically dispense appropriate coloured ink according to how well each student had performed.  The tin of ginger newts sat on the corner of the desk and she took one absently as she considered her classes for the upcoming day and mentally checked that everything was prepared.

"Minerva?  I wondered if I might have a word?"

She looked up to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the classroom doorway.  In one hand he was brandishing an arrangement of vividly coloured exotic flowers wrapped in scarlet and gold tissue paper.  

Curiously she got to her feet.  Were they for her?  Did he know?  Maybe they were just because she hadn't been well.  Or perhaps they were for someone else entirely.  Minerva saw him smiling wryly, fully aware of the effect his simple gesture was having on her and she frowned suddenly, annoyed at herself for falling prey to his rather childish sense of humour.

"Certainly, Albus," she said briskly.  "Shall we stay here or would you prefer I come to your office?"

"Here will be fine," Albus replied, closing the door against unwanted ears.  Immediately his sharp eyes spotted the biscuits on her desk.

May I..?"

He gestured at the tartan tin and she nodded.

"Go ahead."

Albus took a bite of the biscuit and closed his eyes as he chewed, apparently savouring the taste.  When he'd finished his mouthful he nodded approvingly.  

"Not as sweet as I'd like but certainly rather tasty.  In fact, it reminds me of a little snack I came across whilst-"

"Albus…"

It wasn't that his stories weren't interesting.  It was more that she was curious as to why he wanted to speak to her, and that she had a lot of work to do and it really wasn't the time.  And, of course, she wanted to get her own confession over with as soon as possible.  She'd learnt her lesson about keeping secrets from him but that still didn't make it easy.

Albus smiled benevolently at her.

"My apologies, Minerva.  Where was I?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, yes.  It would appear that congratulations are in order.  Here-"

He handed her the flowers, his blue eyes twinkling over the top of his spectacles at her surprise.

"Watch out for the _genista tinctoria_.  It'll spit pollen at you if you don't keep it in water."

Two sets of eyes glanced down at the dry stems protruding from the bottom of the paper, and then at the violet fronds of the plant in question.  Hastily Albus snapped his fingers.  An elegant crystal vase materialised on the desk and Minerva thrust the bouquet gratefully into the water.  She had no desire to spend the rest of the day with an orange face.

"And how are you, my dear?"

"Fine, thank you, Albus." 

"And Remus?"

"He's fine, too.  We're all fine.  Albus, I didn't mean to-"

"I know.  You would have come to see me today.  I appreciate that.  And I do, of course, know how committed you are to ensuring your work is up to date."

"Yes," she said vaguely, though she was still busy trying to work out how he'd found out.  It didn't seem likely that Remus would have said anything, not after she'd told him she'd be seeing Albus herself.  And Poppy had promised to let Minerva break the news and confidentiality was second nature to the kindly nurse.  So, how did he know?

Perhaps he could tell just by looking at her.  

But if he could..?

"You already knew!" she exclaimed loudly, as realisation struck.  "You said it before… after Remus and Severus… you said I was different!  You knew!"

"And you were different," he said with a wry smile.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked, but even as she said it she knew the answer.

"You weren't ready to know.  And even if you had been, it wouldn't have been for me to interfere.  So, tell me.  How are you feeling?"

His kindly concern brought out her fears once more.  Albus was the very epitome of Hogwarts, of all that she valued and held most dear.  Was she really ready to risk letting it all go?

"I feel… I don't know what to feel.  I don't know what to think.  It's just so big, Albus, and I… I never thought it could happen."

Minerva sank slowly back into her chair.

"We've had this conversation before, you and I," he said, helping himself to another biscuit.

"I know."

"Stop trying to rationalise everything.  It's not always neat and tidy.  You have to let go and enjoy the ride."

"But what if something happens?  What if something goes wrong or…"

"What if it does?  Are you telling me you wouldn't fight with every ounce of strength you possessed to protect those that you love?  Come now, Minerva.  Stop giving up and start believing."

"But…"

"Don't you think that Remus worries?  That he's not good enough for you, that you might find someone better?"  

Of course he did.  It hadn't occurred to her before.  She'd been too busy worrying about her own insecurities to ever consider that he might feel the same way.  He always seemed so calm, always seemed happy to joke about things that happened.  And after all, it was he that had made the first move.  He wouldn't have done that if he hadn't been confident that she'd want him.

Perhaps Remus was braver than he thought.

But Albus had already moved on to more practical matters.

"Now, it shouldn't be overly difficult to come to some kind of suitable arrangement – assuming of course that Remus decides to continue in his post next year, and I certainly hope he does.  Madam Pomfrey has assured me that she will be only too happy to take care of the child when both of you are teaching.  I, too, would gladly help out."

He paused to smile broadly at Minerva and she had a sudden image of Albus gleefully feeding sherbet lemons to her baby.

"Thank you," she said weakly.  

"You're welcome," he beamed.  "In fact I must say I am rather looking forward to it!"

* * * * *

By five o'clock Minerva's last class had been sent on their way and she was returning to her rooms, vase of flowers in hand.  The practical nature of her conversation with Dumbledore had made her feel much more confidant that Remus' dream could be more than just a dream and for the rest of the day her attention had wandered shamefully.  Whilst her class had been trying to master reverse transformation spells her mind had been dwelling on possible names and the best place to buy baby clothes.  It was inexcusable behaviour, and she was relieved that her classes were over and that she could think about whatever she pleased.  Truth be told, she was looking forward to dinner.  Despite a large breakfast and a more than adequate lunch she was already feeling hungry.

Remus sat at her desk writing studiously.  

"I'm writing to Syman Llewellyn," he explained.  "He wrote the werewolf book.  He says in the book that he's researching a cure and that it's looking really positive.  I'm writing to him to see if I can help at all.  I want to be a good father."

"You will be a good father."

"You know what I mean.  A normal father." 

She was momentarily distracted as her gaze fell on a large packing case on the floor behind him.  

"It's a Boggart," Remus said, noticing her confusion.

"I thought you covered Boggarts before Christmas."

"It's not for lessons."

Quickly he outlined his plan to help Harry.  Minerva listened, frowning slightly.  It was an unwritten rule that teachers did not give assistance to students outside classes.  Magic was an art; a skill that could only be mastered through careful practice and understanding.  Supervised teaching and written assessments were used to ensure that understanding was present and it was of vital importance that students listened closely to what they were being taught.  Extra tuition to any student could be seen as unfair, and, in Minerva's opinion, did not encourage students to pay attention in class.  She'd been vindicated the previous year when Gilderoy Lockhart had been inundated with requests for private study sessions.  The few sections of the curriculum he'd actually managed to teach to his students hadn't even been difficult ones!

But this was clearly a different case.  Albus had spoken to her on several occasions about his concern for Harry, though admittedly only in rather vague terms.  Surely it couldn't do the boy any harm?  In fact, a demonstration of just how useful magic could be might even inspire the boy to work harder.

"Just be careful," she advised him.  "He doesn't look like he's been sleeping well as it is."

"I know.  That's why I thought this might help.  I've got plenty of chocolate just in case."

His obvious concern for Harry touched her deeply.  

"Where did you find the Boggart?" Minerva inquired.

"It was hiding in Filch's office."  He laughed.  "When Filch appeared it turned into Peeves.  It took me ages to explain."

"What were you doing in Filch's office?"

"Oh, I was just looking for something that had been confiscated from him years ago."  

"What?"

"Nothing.  Just an old joke.  Here, I'll get the Boggart out and we can see what it makes of you!"

"No, don't!"

Remus cocked his head curiously at the alarm in her voice.

"Surely a powerful witch like you isn't afraid of a Boggart?"  

"I'm not afraid!" Minerva said indignantly.  "I'm just being sensible."

"Sensible?"  He raised an eyebrow teasingly.  "Looks like being afraid to me."

"Surely Poppy told you that I need to avoid unnecessary stress?"

Remus grinned.  "That's just an excuse.  What can you possibly have to be so scared of?"

"Nothing," she mumbled, but the image was already in her mind.  Remus, dead, or wounded and being pursued by those of narrow minds and cold hearts who believed wholeheartedly that 'his sort' did not deserve to live.  Her beloved alone and terrified, away where she could not reach him to help him.  To save him.

She turned sharply and went to place the vase on the coffee table, determined not to succumb to her fears.

"What does it turn into for you, anyway?" she asked.

"The moon.  It's not intelligent enough to sense anything that isn't obvious.  It can tell what I… what I am.  It thinks my biggest fear is the full moon.  Even though it isn't." 

For the first time he noticed Albus' flowers and his face fell.

"I didn't think to get you flowers," he said sadly.

"Oh, Remus."

Minerva leant over the desk and gently caressed his cheek.

"You've given me something far more precious than flowers," she whispered.

"Massages?" he hazarded curiously.

"Our daughter."

Minerva smiled and kissed him softly, so that her lips lingered on his.  

"The answer's yes," she said with sudden certainty.  "I love you, Remus Lupin.  I would be honoured to be your wife."

~

_If you like Remus/Minerva fic please visit the livejournal community hms_lf  - our new community and archive for all things RL/MM!  You can also find it via my personal LJ which is linked to from my personal profile._

_And a big thank you to everyone that has reviewed thus far – your words have inspired this story and kept it growing and I am grateful to each and every one of you!_

_Mel_


	11. Quidditch Matches and Questions

Chapter Eleven: Quidditch Matches and Questions 

* * * * *

Less than twenty-four hours later, the newly engaged Remus Lupin closed the door of the History of Magic classroom and hoisted the packing case containing the Boggart onto his shoulder.  For a moment he debated taking it back upstairs to the rooms he was now sharing with Minerva.  He wasn't sure if she'd be particularly impressed at the thought of it cluttering her desk for another week though.  Instead he turned the opposite way along the corridor and started down the stairs that led to his office.

The many staircases and corridors of Hogwarts could be spooky places at night, even without the presence of the castle's many ghosts.  Flaming lamps and torches drew eerie flickering shadows from behind the most innocuous of objects.  Footsteps echoed loudly down the empty halls and whispers that would be easily drowned out during the day now seemed to reverberate like urgent shouts.  None of this appealed to Remus, who was still feeling quite shaky from his encounter with Harry.  Had he done the right thing?  It was one thing to be afraid of the monstrous Dementors.  It was quite another to be forced to relive the murder of your parents over and over again.  Remus would not wish that on the bravest of men, never mind a thirteen-year-old boy.  And yet…  Harry's fear of the Dementors and the weakness he perceived this to be were just as heavy a burden to bear.  And the boy was showing a remarkable talent with the Patronus charm.  To master such a difficult and powerful spell would most likely serve him well, both within his education and beyond it.  Remus decided that as long as Harry was determined to keep trying he owed it to him to help.  Minerva might disapprove but Remus knew James would have been extremely proud of the courage his son was showing.

* * * * *

Minerva was still up when he returned, looking soft and maternal in her dressing gown and pyjamas.  '_Magical Mums: charms and potions to ease the symptoms of pregnancy._' lay open in her lap and she peered thoughtfully through her spectacles at what looked like a particularly complex diagram.  The jewellery box and perfume bottles on her dressing table had been pushed aside to make room for a stack of similar titles, the sight of which brought a wry smile to Remus' lips.  Trust Minerva to approach motherhood as some kind of in depth research project.  She'd probably finish those within the week and they'd have to go up to Diagon Alley to visit Flourish & Blotts.  Still, he was glad to see her getting back to her usual self.

She came to greet him as he hung up his cloak and he returned her kiss with matching affection.

"How did it go?"

"All right."  

"Just all right?"

Remus shrugged.  He'd been expecting her to maintain quiet disapproval, a thought that had bothered him earlier in the evening.  But now that she was proving him wrong he realised that he didn't want to talk about it after all.

"Just hard to watch him suffer," he admitted, ducking his head to avoid her gaze.

Minerva said nothing but placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.  Remus supposed that the prospect of being a mother herself had heightened her sensitivity to Harry's pain, much as it had his.  He sighed deeply and did his best to push the unhappy thoughts aside.

Minerva seemed to somehow read his mind.

"Do you want to play a game?" she asked quietly.

Humour was exactly what Remus needed and he cocked an eyebrow suggestively.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask!"

He slipped an arm around her waist and lowered his head to nuzzle gently against her neck.

"A _board_ game," she said archly.

He considered this.

"Not chess."

"Trivial Pursuit?" she offered.

"Done."

Minerva beamed and led him by the hand to her extremely comfortable sofa.  Once he was settled she arranged herself beside him to her satisfaction before leaning over to retrieve the game.  Trivial Pursuit lived on the ledge beneath the coffee table along with several books on Quidditch and Minerva's prized collection of autographed team photos, which Remus now leafed through as he waited for her to set up the board.  It took only a few minutes before they were ready to play.  Minerva won the toss and moved her green miniature hat first.  

"Charms and potions," she announced as her hat arrived on a turquoise square.

Remus squinted at the question card with weary eyes.

"What," he read, "are the three key ingredients of Ashwold's All-curing Panacea?"

Minerva frowned in concentration.

"Rosehip, shredded keruliss root… and Doxy venom?"

Remus grudgingly conceded the die.  Minerva answered her next three questions correctly and acquired a magenta feather for her hat, which she accepted with such pride that he could not help but be reminded of Hermione Granger.  The fact that his orange piece remained resolutely in the centre of the board did not help matters much.  Remus was making a concerted effort not to sulk by the time his irritatingly knowledgeable partner finally had to pass.  Gleefully he took his turn.

"What are the orange spaces?"

"Quidditch, I think."

"And the pink?"

"'_Which Wizard?_'"

"Orange, then."

He moved his piece and Minerva slid another question card from the pack.

"Which team has been suspended from the Department of Magical Games and Sports a record fourteen times?"

"How on earth should I know that?" Remus protested loudly.

"Guess then.  I'll give you a clue: the Broadmoor twins."

"Oh, I don't know.  The Holyhead Harpies?"

"The Falmouth Falcons."

Minerva reached for the die.

"What?  There's no such team!"

"Yes there is!"

"There isn't!"

"Remus, there is.  They're in the League.  Now are you going to stop being a sore loser or do I have to get the book out and prove it?"

Remus shook his head and took the die gently from her hand.

"Neither.  Let's go and have a bath.  We can have a look at some of those new books whilst we're in there."

"But we've started the game!" she protested with such disbelief that it made him laugh.

"It's just a game.  Now are you going to be a sore loser or can we go and discuss our baby instead of arguing about non-existent Quidditch Teams?"

* * * * *

Later, as Minerva slept peacefully beside him, Remus finally acknowledged the real source of his unease.  Yet again the spectre of Sirius Black had returned to poison the lives of those who had once been proud to call him a friend.  Severus Snape had not forgotten Remus' own friendship with Black and Remus knew that he still suspected them of some kind of sordid secret allegiance, not caring what effect his slurs had on Remus' career and life.  Harry's apparently innocent question earlier that evening had prompted Remus to wonder if Snape had somehow made Harry aware of his concerns.  Luckily his fears had proved unfounded.

Besides, the new security measures introduced after Halloween seemed to be working.  Black hadn't managed to penetrate the castle's defences since then.  Surely it couldn't be much longer before he was caught?  Even the most talented animagi could not maintain their forms twenty-four hours a day and there were only so many places a man could hide.  But one thing still worried Remus: the absence of the Marauder's Map.  

The Map had been a childish prank, a toy intended solely for mischief making.  It had been nearly six months in the making and when it was finally completed they'd prided themselves on it, congratulating each other for what they thought was a big and clever achievement.  They'd never stopped to wonder what might have happened if it had fallen into the wrong hands.  In those days they'd had no enemies aside from their teachers and Slimy Snivellus.  The dark clouds looming on the horizon had gone unnoticed until graduation, by which time the Map had been safely confiscated and locked away.

Remus had forgotten about it completely until he'd gone looking for a Boggart.  His search had led him to Filch's office and there, in its darkest corner, was the legendary Forbidden Filing Cabinet.  It was one of the few treasures that had remained elusive to the Marauders but now, as a Professor, Remus had a valid excuse for being there and he had remembered about the Map.  Sirius would know how to work the Map; he'd helped make it, after all.  His knowledge of the castle's hidden passageways would help him to a certain extent but only the Map would warn him about the whereabouts of staff and students that might otherwise see him and summon the Dementors.  Remus had immediately searched for it with the intention of securing it elsewhere, or even handing it over to Dumbledore for safekeeping.

But a thorough exploration of the drawers had failed to produce the Map.

Had Sirius somehow managed to reclaim it?  Perhaps it had been thrown away: the cabinet was bursting at the seams and the Map in its disguised form looked like nothing more than a silly joke parchment.  More importantly, Remus considered, should he tell Minerva?  She had the authority to search Filch's entire office and she'd be able to ask him if he remembered it or if he had disposed of it years before.  He debated this silently in the darkness.  It was probably nothing, after all.  Filch was too security conscious for Sirius to have raided his office undetected.  Remus had certainly had a hard time explaining things even though he was a staff member with a legitimate need for a Boggart – a Boggart that had unfortunately taken on the form of Peeves as soon as it had sensed Filch.

In the meantime Remus had more important things to worry about.  He was going to be a father and a husband.  There were lots of things that they needed to plan.  When were they going to marry?  Where were they going to live?  They would need clothes, toys and furniture before the baby arrived and they only had limited amounts of free time in which to shop.  And they hadn't even started discussing names.  This time last year Remus had had virtually no responsibilities save from earning just enough money to stay alive.  Now he had a partner, an unborn child, colleagues and students all relying on him.  He was determined not to let any of them down.

* * * * *

Harry's after class sessions continued over the next few weeks.  Remus had been extremely gratified to learn that the Patronus Harry had produced that first evening had not been merely a one-off fluke.  Minerva had continued to warm to the idea of this extra tuition, admitting one evening that she secretly rather admired his determination to help Harry.  

Life quickly settled back into its pre-Christmas routine of classes and preparation, meals in the Great Hall and evenings marking homework.  Minerva, too, had rapidly adjusted to being pregnant and now knew just as much – and possibly more – about the subject than Poppy Pomfrey.  The two women would often have tea together and were fast becoming good friends.

The only person who remained a source of irritation to Minerva was Severus Snape.  The story of the Firebolt had reached his ears and he did not miss an opportunity to taunt Minerva about the prospects of the Gryffindor team following their disastrous loss against Hufflepuff.  He was unaware of the extra tuition Harry was receiving and was therefore convinced that they'd be seeing a repeat event if a second pitch invasion occurred.  Remus, too, was doubtful that Harry's still-weak Patronus would be any match for a real Dementor.  Only Minerva remained optimistic, determined not to let Snape see how much he riled her.  Twice in the past week Remus had caught her polishing the Quidditch Cup with the office door open, and she spent much of her free time supervising the tests taking place on Harry's broomstick.  Between the demands of her job, her pregnancy and checking over the Firebolt it soon became quite common for Remus to find her asleep at her desk, and though he gently teased her it concerned him greatly to think that she might be overdoing it.

* * * * *

January's full moon passed without ceremony.  Minerva gave Remus the spare blanket from her bed to take to his office as protection against the bitter cold that seeped through the thick stone walls of the castle.  The following day she brought him hot vegetable soup and wholegrain rolls despite his protestations that he should be looking after her rather than the other way around.  

"I'm pregnant, not crippled," she'd reminded him dismissively.

Remus had known better than to argue.

"But," Minerva had added thoughtfully.  "You could always go for a walk down to Hogsmeade.  I'm sure the fresh air would do you a world of good."

She'd delivered this with a straight face but he hadn't been fooled in the slightest.

"You've run out of Ginger Newts then, I take it?"

His token gift had recently sparked off an unexpected addiction for Minerva.  She'd taken quite a while to finish the first tin and claimed to have only replaced it 'because Albus is rather fond of them'.  The second tin had been her undoing and Remus had since been dispatched to Hogsmeade on several occasions to replenish her supply.  It had been quite entertaining watching her struggle between her desire for more biscuits and her disgust at not being able to cope without them.  Lately she'd been blaming her pregnancy but he hadn't been entirely convinced.

Resigned to another trip, he'd finished his soup and stretched his stiff legs experimentally.  A bit of gentle exercise was exactly what he needed, he'd decided.  

That, and a mug or two of Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

* * * * *

Less than a fortnight later the Firebolt was back on her desk.

"So?" Remus prompted.  "What was wrong with it?"

Minerva sighed heavily but did not look up.

"Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  It's completely fine, in fact."

"Well, that's a relief.  Isn't it?"

"Not really."

"Not really?  But what if it means that Black isn't trying to get to Harry after all?"

"It's hardly proof of that," Minerva said with obvious frustration.  "Besides, it doesn't make sense.  I was so sure that it was a trick.  Who else could afford to send Harry a Firebolt?  It's the fastest broom in the world, for goodness sake."

"What did Albus say?"

"Not much.  Just that Harry deserved it."

"So can he have it back?"

There was no reply.

"Minerva?" he prompted gently.

"I know," she replied.

She turned away from him to run her hands along the polished ash handle of the broomstick.

"I'm just worried," she admitted at length.  "What if something happened to him?  After everything he's been through… I'd never forgive myself."

"But you've tested it.  And surely it's been flown?"

"Yes, Xiomara gave it a quick test.  Just to make sure it was genuine."

Remus laughed.

"I bet she enjoyed that."

Minerva did not return his smile.  Abruptly she returned the Firebolt to her desk and began to tidy away the papers she'd been working on.  Remus stopped her with a gentle hand on her forearm.

"I know how you're feeling," he said softly.  "I feel the same way.  It's only natural given our situation.  But if none of our extremely talented faculty can find a problem then surely there isn't one to find.  And Albus is right.  Harry deserves something to be happy about, even if it's just a broomstick."

"It's not _just_ a broomstick!" Minerva exclaimed indignantly.

Remus gave her a knowing smile.

"Oh, very clever.  Fine.  You're right.  Harry can have it back tomorrow.  But not until after class or he'll never be able to concentrate."

"I love it when you get all stern," Remus teased.

"I'm serious!" she protested.

"So am I.  Professor McGonagall, why don't we continue this _very serious_ conversation in your bedroom?  I have one or two suggestions that I think might interest you.  In a strictly professional sense, of course…"

* * * * *

The Saturday of Gryffindor's next Quidditch match arrived surprisingly quickly and as usual for a match day there was an air of barely concealed excitement rippling intangibly through the Great Hall at breakfast.  Gryffindor were not yet out of the running for the Cup and Ravenclaw also had a strong team and ground to make up.  The two houses not competing both had a vested interest in the outcome of the match and tensions were running high.  Remus had to smile at Filius Flitwick, whose vast blue rosette almost obscured the lower part of his face.  Outside the castle, daffodils featured prominently in Cynthia's carefully tended flowerbeds, as they did on the jumpers and cloaks of the Hufflepuffs.  Even Minerva, who still bore pretences towards impartiality, was wearing a house scarf and, thankfully unknown to everyone except him, matching red underwear.  She had yet to arrive at breakfast, having accosted Lee Jordan on the way downstairs in order to give him a serious lecture about the importance of unbiased commentary.  

Remus got the impression that these lectures were a regular event; certainly Lee hadn't seemed the least bit perturbed.  He knew that Minerva was worried about the privilege being taking away from Gryffindor and shared equally between all four houses, as it always had been up until recently.  She was missing the point, though.  The rest of the faculty found the Minerva-Lee double act so entertaining that they wouldn't dream of asking for different commentary.

Quidditch matches brought back some of Remus' fondest memories of school.  James had once given him some Omnioculars as a thank you for helping him practice and they were one of the few mementos that Remus had kept.  He'd found them the other day whilst sorting through his few belongings, and though they were ridiculously dated compared to the newer models, he was clutching them tightly now and hoping that they would still work.  There was something very poignant about the thought of using them to watch James' son play, almost as if James himself would somehow be there too.

Once he'd finished his food, Remus joined the crowds of students streaming down the pathway that led to the Quidditch Stadium, jostling each other good-naturedly in their rush to get the best view.  The tallest viewing boxes were reserved: two for the staff and the rest for the sixth and seventh years.  Everyone else had to climb the rickety wooden staircases and squeeze into the lower stands that filled the gaps between the towers, craning their necks to catch sight of the action taking place above.  Each house occupied one quarter of the stands, and each competed with the others to be the brightest, loudest faction.  Remus could remember the smell of sawdust and resin, the eager anticipation as they'd waited for the teams to emerge.  He'd been nervous enough just watching, and on several occasions had marvelled at the courage of the players themselves, who had the hopes of all their classmates resting on their shoulders.

Minerva had been a Quidditch player: a role that seemed entirely at odds with the shy, studious image she had usually presented.  Even now Remus didn't quite understand why she'd enjoyed it so much.  He'd certainly never been the athletic type, preferring to read or study instead.  In those days he'd still believed he'd have just as much chance at a good career as anyone in his year and this thought had inspired him to work harder than most of his classmates.  Hadn't Dumbledore allowed him to come to Hogwarts?  Sirius, James and Peter had helped him to see his lycanthropy as an opportunity for adventure rather than a millstone around his neck.  He'd been so naïve then.  He'd thought that attitudes to werewolves would improve but instead they'd worsened.  Dumbledore's offer of the Defence Against the Dark Arts job had been like a lifeline, pulling him away from the prejudice and cruelty of wizard London into a world where he'd found that he could be normal.  And where, to his immense surprise, he could be loved.

Impulsively Remus joined the queue for the Gryffindor stands instead of following the staircase that led to the staff box.  Minerva wouldn't mind; she'd be too busy warring with Lee over the magical microphone.  He knew he was supposed to be impartial but just this once he wanted to experience it again: that feeling of being young and innocent and not caring what tomorrow might bring because you were too busy having fun with today.  The first and second years welcomed Remus happily into their midst and very soon he was chanting "Go, Go Gryffindor!" along with the rest, watching in awe as the Gryffindor team scored goal after goal.  He could see the Chasers passing the Quaffle so quickly it became a blur, and Harry circling the pitch high above, closely tailed by Cho Chang.  Where was the Snitch?

"JORDAN!  ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS?  GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Laughter broke out in the stands, Remus included.  Now that was a side of Minerva he knew very well – as much from his own schooldays as from recent weeks.  Lee would be in trouble again this evening, though never so much as to receive detention or deduction of points.  

On the pitch, Harry made another spectacular dive and the singing from the stands resumed.  Ravenclaw were catching up now: the game could go either way and both Seekers seemed to realise this, pushing their brooms to go even faster.  Remus hoped Gryffindor would win.  The last thing Harry needed was further disappointment and perhaps a win would give him a stronger sense of happiness for his Patronus charm.  

Suddenly he saw them out of the very corner of his eyes: three tall, dark shapes moving purposefully onto the pitch.  Dementors.  The cheer caught in his throat as he searched the sky above the pitch, squinting through his Omnioculars to see where Harry was.  Much to his dismay the boy was shooting upwards, away from the ground and certainly high enough to do a lot more damage than a broken wrist.  All around Remus the excited shouts of the crowd faded abruptly as the Dementors reached the spot almost directly below Harry.  The staff box opposite was already emptying, its occupants presumably racing down the staircase towards the pitch in the hope of averting disaster.  

Remus saw Harry brandish his wand and knew exactly which spell he was casting even though he couldn't hear the words.  The Patronus Charm.  There was no way it could make any difference from that distance, Remus thought.  His heart was racing in his chest as he frantically searched his mind for a useful spell.  But to his immense surprise instead of the silver mist that had accompanied Harry's best attempts at a Patronus in the classroom, a huge white stag exploded into the sky and charged downwards, sending the three Dementors tumbling into an undignified heap.  

A stag.

Remus knew exactly where that had come from and he wasn't in the least bit surprised.  So maybe James was watching over his son after all.  Shaking with relief, he turned his back on the pitch and nudged his way through the crowds of students who were eagerly craning forward to see what was happening.  He wouldn't be happy until he knew that those foul things were well away from the stadium.  As he reached the rickety staircase the whistle blew and the Gryffindors erupted into a torrent of cheers and stamps: obviously Harry had got the Snitch.

Moments later he jogged onto the pitch just as the players and Madam Hooch touched safely down.  Further away he could see a familiar figure in emerald green towering over the fallen Dementors.  Minerva, he realised with sudden alarm.  What on earth is she doing?  She certainly wasn't safe that close to them, even if they were feeling a little dazed.  He quickened his pace and drew out his wand, ready to shout out to her, to warn her away, ready to cast his own Patronus Charm if any of them so much as lifted a finger from the ground on which they lay.

Only when he reached her did he finally realise that there was no cause for concern.  One blonde head and one dark one had already emerged from the tangle of black cloth, and by the look of it there was still at least one other boy trapped.

"Get out of there at once!" Minerva was shouting angrily as she tucked her wand back into her robes.  "Come on, show your faces!"

No, she definitely wouldn't be in need of his help.  With a wry smile Remus turned away and went in search of Harry.

* * * * *

Once the students were safely settled in their houses, the staff relaxed in their usual post-Quidditch-match way: with a lively party in the staff room.  Up until recently the Three Broomsticks had been their chosen venue, but under current circumstances it had been tacitly agreed - or at least, Minerva had decided - that having so many staff away from the castle at the same time was very definitely not a good idea.  Instead, the faded armchairs were pushed back and music conjured magically from the walls.  In deference to the Gryffindor win and Minerva's presence the streamers and banners were a vivid crimson, and one table bore drinks of a more alcoholic variety than the tea and coffee usually found here, most of them supplied by Cynthia Sprout.  To that end, several of the faculty were rather… merry.  Filius Flitwick was already conducting an imaginary orchestra from on top of a sideboard and by the looks of it Aratus Hooch  would also be having a distinctly pleasurable evening if his wife managed to find her way back to the village before she passed out.

Minerva and Remus sat quietly in one corner, content to watch rather than join in.  This was quite usual for Minerva; less so for Remus, who could normally be persuaded to join in the dancing, particularly if there were free drinks involved.  But he'd definitely had enough excitement already today.  He slowly sipped his butterbeer, marvelling again at how different this year was from the last, when Quidditch matches had been the last thing on his mind and he'd spent most of his energy trying to keep his head down and eke out a quiet existence.  Now the heat radiating from the open fire was making his face pleasantly warm but also having the less desirable effect of warming his butterbeer.  There was no sign of Snape and Remus was beginning to wonder if this was an admission of guilt.  He nudged Minerva gently.

"You don't think he put them up to it, do you?"

"Hmmm?" she murmured sleepily.

Remus was trying to keep his voice as low as possible but the clatter of plates and the raucous music were making it very difficult for him to hear her.

"Severus," he said, a little more loudly.  "That Dementor prank at the match today.  Do you think he might have put the idea into their heads?"

Minerva mulled the idea over.  

"No," she said decidedly.  "He'd never do something that reprehensible."

"Are you sure?"

She sighed heavily and set her glass down on a nearby table.

"Yes, I'm sure.  Remus, let's not sit here and talk about Snape."

Minerva gathered her robes and stood, waving aside Albus' rather weak protestations that nobody could leave until they'd tried his special Romanian Overproof Firewhisky, last year's Christmas gift from the Weasleys.  

"Where are you going?"

"To bed.  I should be keeping an eye – or an ear, rather – on the students anyway."

Remus shrugged.

"Then I'll join you."

He wasn't least bit bothered about leaving the party – there was one after just about every match, after all, and anyway he was supposed to be behaving a bit more like a responsible parent these days.  He'd not had a chance to talk to Minerva all day and he'd been meaning to ask her about… well, it had slipped his mind now but he'd probably remember once they got away from the racket of the staff room.  Something about Harry, he was sure.

Minerva passed him his cloak.

"I've got something I want to show you, anyway," she called over the merriment.

* * * * *

Up in her rooms, though, the noise of the Gryffindor party above was almost as loud.  Remus slumped irritably on the sofa, choosing to forget that his own friends had probably inflicted just as much misery on their Head of House during their own school days.  His mind had gone completely blank.

"So what did you want to show me?" he asked Minerva, who had locked the door firmly and slipped off her outer robe before joining him on the sofa.  She was wearing a smart dark green v-neck jumper over her blouse and she quickly removed it, un-tucking the blouse and loosening the fastening of her skirt so that she could expose her stomach to the crisp evening air.  Remus watched bemusedly, not quite sure where this was going.

"If you're about to tell me we're having twins then you'd better let me have some of Dumbledore's whisky first," he quipped.

She ignored him and fished her wand out from her discarded robe, lightly resting its tip against her bare skin.  Her face was still glowing from the excitement of the match and the earlier chill of the wind blowing briskly through the stadium.  She paused for a brief moment to focus her thoughts and then tightly gripped her wand.

_"Obstetrius aurialis!"_

And then he heard it: soft but distinct, the fluttering heartbeat of his unborn daughter.  Instinctively he reached for Minerva's hand, squeezing it gently as he listened to what was quite possibly the most incredible thing he'd ever heard in his life.  Pride welled up within him at this life that they'd created between them: pride that their love could be strong enough to bring forth something so innocent and tiny.

The seconds ticked past unnoticed for almost ten minutes.  Finally Minerva lifted her wand away and the charm was ended.  Remus pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Poppy helped me practise it this morning," she said quietly.  "I wanted to show you myself."

He buried his face in her neck.

"Thank you for saying 'yes'," he murmured.

He felt her hands gently stoke his head.

"Thank you for asking."

She disentangled herself from him after they'd shared a few soft kisses, and disappeared into the bathroom to wash and change.  

Remus shed his clothing in contemplative silence.  He barely noticed when the bathroom door opened and Minerva reappeared.  She pulled on her dressing gown and tucked her long hair neatly into a net.

"I'll go and see to that lot" - she gestured to the ceiling – "and then we can get to bed." 

A few minutes later he heard the din from upstairs suddenly diminish as Minerva kindly but firmly insisted that the Gryffindors tidied up and went to bed.  It reminded him of his own school days, though the Head of House in his time had not been nearly attractive as Minerva McGonagall.  He extinguished all but one of the lamps and climbed into her bed, snuggling gratefully into the Always-Warm magical sheets.

When she finally returned he remembered what it was he wanted to talk to her about.

"Harry said something strange the other day."

"Really?"

She frowned critically at the mirror and removed the hairnet, shaking her hair gently loose. 

"Yes, he said he liked Butterbeer."

Minerva gave him a bemused look.

"Most of our students like Butterbeer, Remus," she pointed out, sliding out of her dressing gown and hanging it neatly back behind the door.

"Well, yes, Professor.  I am aware of that, believe it or not.  But when has Harry ever had the chance to try it?  He's not allowed into Hogsmeade and I doubt Molly Weasley would let even Arthur have any in the Burrow…"

He trailed off, his concerns momentarily overridden by the desire to focus fully on his lover as she stripped off her pyjamas.  He didn't think he'd ever tire of watching her: watching her and knowing he was the only one to ever be privileged in this way.  

He cleared his throat.

"Don't take this the wrong way but I think you're putting on weight."

"Am I?"

She turned sideways and studied her reflection in the mirror on the far wall.  Remus could see a definite roundness in her belly that hadn't been there a month or so ago.  It hadn't been so noticeable when she'd been lying on her back.

"It's all those Ginger Newts you've been eating," he decided.  "How many tins is it now?  Eight?  Nine?"

Minerva turned away from the mirror and frowned at him in mock anger.  

"That's your fault!  I'd never even heard of them until you bought me that tin!"

She waved her wand briefly and the last lamp flickered out, then Remus heard the rustle of the sheets being pulled back as she joined him in bed.  He welcomed her into his embrace and rubbed her stomach affectionately as he cuddled her close.

"Maybe it's the baby as well," he conceded.

"Also your fault," she teased, twisting slightly in his arms to plant a lingering kiss on his mouth.  He leaned in hungrily, welcoming her apparent desire to celebrate the Gryffindor victory in a rather less appropriate manner than that chosen by her students.

"Well, don't worry," he murmured huskily.  "I'll still love you.  Even when you get really fat."

As intended, this provoked an indignant gasp from Minerva.

"What makes you think I'll still want you to love me?" she demanded.

He shifted his body, rolling her over until his hips rested on top of hers.

"Oh, I think you will."

"Really?  And why, exactly, do you think that?"

Her tone conveyed the same frostiness that she used on disobedient students and the overly amorous Cornelius Fudge.  Remus knew she was joking but couldn't help his mind slipping back to final year fantasies of seducing the newly appointed Transfiguration teacher in the Prefect's Bathroom.  For a moment he considered asking if she'd ever had similar thoughts.  On reflection, though, perhaps this was shaky ground.  What if she _had_ had similar thoughts, but about someone else?  He wondered if there was any chance of persuading her to indulge him, to meet him in the bathroom with strict hair and spectacles and high-necked robes so that he could show her, rather than tell her, what it was he'd wanted for so very, very long.  

Probably not, he decided.

Instead he answered her question with his hands and mouth until she was completely satisfied.

* * * * *

An hour later Remus was still awake.  Unbidden, his mind had drifted back onto the subject of Harry and the Butterbeer and he was still concerned that Harry and his friends had somehow stumbled across the Marauder's Map.  He wondered once more whether he should share his suspicions with Minerva.  It would mean telling her about the map but he wasn't entirely averse to this idea, since she could hardly hold against him something that he'd done more than a dozen years before as a thoughtless teenager.  Perhaps she'd know what to do.

He held his breath and listened carefully.  Sure enough the familiar steady cadence of her breathing told him she was still awake.

"You don't think there's any way that Harry could have gone to Hogsmeade, do you?"

"Of course not," Minerva said, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"But what if he found a way out of the castle?" Remus persisted.

She wearily lifted her head.

"There is no way out of the castle that we don't already know about."

Frowning at the worried expression on his face, she leaned over to kiss him.

"Trust me, Remus.  I know you're worried.  But Harry is safe here."

"Then how do you explain the Butterbeer?"

"When I went upstairs just now there were sweets and Butterbeer and goodness knows what else all over the place.  I expect Granger and Weasley brought Harry some back from Hogsmeade, don't you?"

Remus felt suddenly relieved.  It hadn't occurred to him to think that Harry's friends would bring him back presents but now that Minerva had suggested it, it made perfect sense.  They'd certainly feel bad about him not being able to join them on the visits to the village.  Remus could vividly recall his own excitement at visiting Hogsmeade for the first time.  They'd probably brought back all the treats they could carry.

Once again, Remus offered up a silent prayer of gratitude that Harry had such good friends in Hermione and Ron.  

And Harry couldn't possibly have the Map: how would he have ever have sneaked it away from Filch?  Even if he had, he surely wouldn't be stupid enough to try and get out of the castle, particularly if there was a risk that he might run into a Dementor.  He'd seen first hand how fast they could move.  No, Remus decided.  He was worrying about nothing.  A large black dog around the castle would be noticeable – more so than a man who could wear an invisibility cloak or disguise himself with polyjuice potion.  

It was nothing.

He felt his eyes grow heavy and his muscles relax as sleep finally overcame him.

* * * * *

A big thank you to Sasha for all the beta-reading help!  And thank you, as always, to everyone that has reviewed or e-mailed to say you're enjoying… I'll try not to keep you waiting too long for Chapter Twelve.

_Mel_


	12. Under Attack

When dawn finally broke, the pink light of early morning was completed obscured by thick black clouds. The rain, which had mercifully held off for yesterday's match, had returned with a vengeance soon after midnight. The wind had swept endless curtains of shimmering grey in from the west and battered the castle relentlessly, the thunderous noise echoing along the deserted corridors. Gutters were soon overflowing and several of the drainpipes had given way in the face of such an onslaught. Water fell in torrents from the rooftops, even after most of the rain had subsided.

It was the worst storm Minerva McGonagall had seen in a good few years. Unpleasant weather was of course to be expected given the northern location of the school, but even so it wasn't usually this bad. But given the circumstances it was strangely fitting: from the triumph of yesterday's Gryffindor victory to the disaster of last night's attack. It's as if the skies themselves are mocking us, Minerva thought bitterly. Mocking our utter failure to protect our students. It had been a long night and she was still reeling from the shock of discovering that Sirius Black had not only managed to make it into the castle unseen, but into Gryffindor Tower as well! It was only through sheer luck that they weren't mourning the death of Harry Potter this morning. The very thought of how close it had been made Minerva shudder.

Once she'd ensured that the password had been changed and her charges were safely protected once more, Minerva had gone to rouse the rest of the faculty so that they could instigate a full search of the castle. It hadn't taken long. Once Albus Dumbledore had been alerted he'd used a special Floo powder variant that sent noisy red sparks shooting from the fireplace of every staff member. One by one they'd convened in the Entrance Hall, all dressed hastily in whatever clothing had been closest to hand and looking as though they'd been in a fight with an enchanted wardrobe. It would have been amusing had it not been for the seriousness of the situation. Albus had invited Minerva to give her account of the events in Gryffindor Tower and then they'd divided up the areas to be searched. Minerva had been partnered with Sarah Vector and together they had spent the rest of the night silently scouring every inch of the East Wing for any sign of Sirius Black, checking every classroom, every corridor and every cupboard with their wands gripped tightly in their hands.

Finally the search had been called off. Sirius had somehow managed to escape again despite the teachers looking for him, despite the portraits, ghosts and house elves that had all been alerted and despite the Dementors ringing the castle. The Heads of the four Houses would be meeting with Albus later that morning to discuss what else – if anything - could be done. In the meantime Minerva had gone to find Remus, who had not yet returned from his assigned area: the cellars beneath the kitchens.

"Have you found him?"

There was a hopeful expression on Remus' face that matched the urgency in his tone. For a split second Minerva wished she were bringing him good news instead of bad. She shook her head and sat slowly down on a dusty crate, weary from spending virtually the entire night on her feet.

"No. Remus, he's long gone."

"We have to keep looking," Remus said desperately, upending another stack of boxes with a quick blast from his wand. "What if he's still here? He could be hiding somewhere. He knows the castle well."

"We've looked everywhere! For goodness sake, he's probably miles away by now. All we're doing is exhausting ourselves – which is probably what he wants!"

She saw his shoulders stiffen and regretted the harshness of her tone. "Come on, Remus," she said more gently. "Let's go and have some breakfast. It's been an awfully long night."

"No!"

The intensity in her partner's voice surprised Minerva, accustomed as she was to the calm, controlled exterior he usually displayed. She'd only ever seen him get angry once before and that had been under entirely different circumstances. Now what she heard was desperation. But why? It had been Dumbledore's decision to stop scouring the castle, and Dumbledore would be the one responsible if that decision, heaven forbid, turned out to have been the wrong one. Why was Remus being so stubborn about it?

He must just be concerned about Harry, she surmised. After all, he was one of James Potter's closest friends. It's only natural that he'd feel some responsibility towards his son.

But if that was the case then why wasn't he upstairs making sure Harry was all right?

Minerva glanced at her watch. There was just over half an hour left until she was due to meet with the rest of the House Heads in Dumbledore's office. They'd no doubt be discussing what further measures would be necessary in order to safeguard Potter and the rest of the students. Minerva had several journal articles suggesting defensive applications of transfiguration and she wanted a chance to review them before the meeting.

Remus conjured the last of the crates back into place and turned to glance through the doorway that led into the nest cellar, unconsciously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"What on earth has got into you, Remus?"

There was no answer. The dim light made his frown look more severe. She knew his face only too well: had watched it grow from young boy to world-weary man, had kissed those lips countless times. She liked that familiarity. Sometimes when she couldn't sleep, she'd roll over so that she could watch him. In sleep he looked peaceful… nothing like the troubled man that stood before her now.

"I'm going back upstairs," Minerva said firmly. "You can stay here or you can come and help us find more productive ways of capturing Black. It's entirely up to you."

Remus was still trailing behind her as she strode back through the kitchen towards her office, acknowledging the house elves crowded around the long tables with a friendly nod that belied his current state of anguish. For once his presence was not a source of comfort. She needed to be focused right now, needed a clear head. She knew they would need to discuss what had happened but personal concerns would just have to wait. There was no knowing when Sirius would attempt to breach the castle again and security simply had to be their priority. She left him at the bottom of the main staircase with the suggestion that he showered, had some breakfast and then went to see if Dumbledore had anything for him to do. Then she continued on her way.

* * *

Her office, when she finally reached it, was surprisingly gloomy. Even though it was now day, the thick clouds cloaking the sky meant that very little light had managed to penetrate the arched windows on the far side. Minerva lit the lamps with an absent wave of her hand, then settled herself behind her desk with a heavy sigh. She was feeling distinctly light headed: it seemed that the combination of no sleep and the fact that she'd barely eaten in the past few days were conspiring to bring her down. Perhaps she should have taken the advice she'd given Remus. Breakfast, at least. She pressed her hand absently against her belly as she reached for her quill, intent upon jotting down a list of the titles she intended upon looking at before all sensible thought slipped from her mind completely. Then she could send to the kitchen for some food. But before she could begin to write she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Minerva called, feeling even more exhausted and wishing in her heart that it was still ten in the evening and she could return to bed and worry about everything else in the morning. Briefly she wondered if it was Remus, if he wanted to talk and whether she wanted to talk to him. But when the door swung open it was Severus Snape that strode in, slamming it dramatically behind him and almost catching his cloak in it in the process.

"Did you want something?" Minerva enquired icily, irritated at the interruption and having had quite enough theatrics for one day.

"Poppy asked me to make you some of this," Severus replied, and produced a small glass container from the depths of his thick black robes. "Three drops in a glass of water four times a day."

He handed her the vial, the liquid inside sparkling eerily in the candlelight. She knew at once what it was: an anti-nausea potion that Poppy had promised would help her to feel better, as well as keep her appetite up. What Minerva hadn't realised, however, was that Severus would be involved in producing it. She'd not been looking forward to him finding out about her pregnancy but she'd been able to reassure herself that he wouldn't have to know for at least another month or two. No wonder he was looking so smug.

"Thank you," she said, as calmly as she could manage.

"Quite the little predicament you're in." He arched an eyebrow provocatively at her and she could tell he was savouring the prospect of confrontation. Even going an entire night without sleep was not, it seemed, enough to prevent Severus Snape from exploiting an opportunity to belittle someone else.

She matched his stare, determined not to show her dismay. Why did he have to do this now of all times? Couldn't he see that she wasn't feeling well?

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, knowing he wasn't fooled.

"I think you do." He sighed melodramatically. "Dear me, what a scandal. A prim and proper deputy headmistress becomes embroiled in an illicit affair with another member of staff and then gets pregnant… what will the Daily Prophet say?"

It was obvious he was enjoying this and Minerva felt suddenly angry as the last reserves of her patience drained away. Surely Snape, as Head of Slytherin, had more important things to worry about than sniping at her? This conversation would have been inappropriate at the best of times. In current circumstances it was downright inexcusable.

"I'm sure the Daily Prophet has more pressing news to concern itself with," she snapped. "Sirius Black infiltrating Hogwarts, perhaps?"

Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"I doubt Rita Skeeter would be interested in such trifling matters as that," he said dismissively, clearly relishing the discomfort he was causing his colleague.

"What is this really about, Severus? I know you've got this childish grudge against Remus but that doesn't explain why you've decided to torment me as well!"

Snape's eyes narrowed menacingly and he took a slow step forward. Minerva held his gaze, fragments of an earlier conversation suddenly drifting back to her.

"Who was she?" she asked quietly.

"What?"

"The woman you loved. Remember? You told me that I wasn't the only one to know what love was. So who was she?"

There was silence. Snape gaped at her, though whether he was angry at her impertinence or merely confused she couldn't tell.

"_Answer me, Severus! Who was she?!_"

"You have no idea what you're talking about," he snarled furiously.

"No? Wait, I'm assuming it was a woman. Maybe a man?"

Snape leant forward over the desk and she jumped back reflexively. For a moment she found herself feeling suddenly afraid. He was a big man, certainly big enough to overpower a tired, hungry and slightly built witch who'd been stupid enough to leave her wand in her desk drawer.

But in her heart she knew that he wouldn't dare harm her.

"Don't poke your nose in where it's not wanted," Snape hissed.

"What?" Minerva exclaimed incredulously. "You poke _your_ nose where it's not wanted _all the time!_ My relationship with Remus! His classes! Dumbledore's reasons for trusting him!"

She paused. "Our baby," she added more quietly, and with just a hint of pride in her voice.

That seemed to be the last straw for Snape. With one anguished glance at her, he snatched up an earthenware teapot and hurled it furiously over her shoulder at the opposite wall. It shattered against the unforgiving stone with a loud bang. Ceramic fragments and cold remains of yesterday's camomile and limeflower brew exploded across the room and Minerva yelped in surprise as the sticky liquid splattered the back of her robes.

But before she could recover herself, Severus had already turned on his heel and left, wrenching the door open with such force that the resulting draught sent several large stacks of parchments cascading from her desk.

Left alone, Minerva swallowed down her misery as best she could. She could feel tears welling up and inwardly she chastised herself. She was a grown woman, a teacher, and soon she would… would be a mother. To sit and cry in her office and be so… so pathetically _weak_… it was unthinkable. She took a deep breath and struggled to control her emotions. At least he hadn't thrown the morning sickness potion, she consoled herself. The teapot would be easy to replace but the thought of asking Severus Snape for help with anything after that little display turned her stomach.

Their relationship, such as it was, had been on distinctly rocky ground ever since she'd fallen for Remus. Severus was convinced that her trust was misplaced and his stubborn mind could not look beyond the possibility that Remus was a liar and an ally of Black. The news of her pregnancy had probably been the final straw. To him it would have represented Minerva turning her back on him completely – the only person who might otherwise have been sensible enough to listen to his concerns and the only person who might have been able to influence Dumbledore to be a little more wary.

He's only trying to protect Harry, Minerva realised. But if only he'd give Remus a chance then he would know that Remus was not the one Harry needed to be protected from.

Before Christmas she'd begged Severus to do that very thing. But she had also asked him to cover up for her, afraid at how Dumbledore might react if he discovered she was sleeping with Remus Lupin. Would Severus have understood that? Or might he have thought that it had been Remus persuading her not to tell the truth? That would have given him even more cause to be suspicious. But she hadn't even tried to understand that. Instead she'd just lost her temper with him.

I could have tried to reason with him, she thought. I could have taken the time to listen. I could have been more patient.

But it was too late now.

She needed to change. She needed to clear up the mess. She needed to gather her papers for the meeting. So much to do, she thought.

She glanced down at her desk, hoping to find the articles she'd come in here for in the first place. There was writing on the parchments that lay there but she couldn't focus on it. Instead the narrow ribbons of black ink seemed to swirl before her gaze: articles and homework and correspondence, until it was as though the room itself was moving in unstoppable circles. Minerva felt her stomach heave with sudden nausea and she closed her eyes and rested her elbows on the top of the polished oak surface so that she could cup her face in her hands. The remedy Severus had left mocked her from a nearby shelf but she couldn't muster the strength to summon it over, nor to conjure the requisite water glass. Where had Remus gone? She really ought to talk to him. It wouldn't do for them to be at odds with each other, not now.

* * *

Minerva drifted slowly awake, vaguely aware that something wasn't quite right but not sufficiently conscious to know what it was. Her head ached slightly and she shifted awkwardly on the pillow, trying to find a more comfortable position. A fresh breeze danced through the air, making her grateful for the warm quilt that covered her. It had been made especially for her by the house elves when she'd been appointed Head of House and moved into this suite: crimson and gold patchwork with an abstract representation of the Gryffindor lion, filled with warm owl feathers. The gesture had touched Minerva deeply despite her being accustomed to the subservient role of the house elves. She knew that they took pride in their service but even so, she'd stake all the galleons she owned that they hadn't made one for Severus. Severus… his name rang a distant warning bell in her mind. There was something she should be remembering, something that would make her feel bad when she did. But try as she might, she couldn't quite grasp it.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. It looked as though the rain had finally stopped, or at least slowed to a light drizzle. She couldn't see much of the sky from where she was lying but the small amount that was visible looked to be almost blue. Minerva stretched her legs and rolled over in an attempt to shake off the stiffness in her limbs. Someone had thoughtfully left a glass of water on the small cabinet beside the bed. Alongside it lay her spectacles, a Sunday Prophet and what looked like the February edition of _Magical Education_.

Sunday, she thought distantly. It's Sunday. What's wrong?

More of her memory returned. She recalled the attack of the previous night. She'd hardly slept at all. So why was she in bed now? She was no longer wearing the heavy robes she'd donned in protection against the early morning chill – instead she was wearing a nightgown: one of the spare ones from the very bottom of her dresser. Her head ached slightly but on the whole she felt a lot better than she had earlier.

But still there was something missing.

What time is it, she wondered. The shadows on the floor told her it was past midday, but they weren't so long as to suggest evening's approach. She guessed it was mid-afternoon, which meant she'd been unconscious, or at least asleep, for more than eight hours. As she became gradually more alert, the distant murmur of voices reached her ears.

Remus, Minerva thought immediately. She craned her neck a little further hoping to hear more, and only then did she notice the large and vibrant bouquet of flowers that had been hastily arranged in half full water jug, and the enamel pink tin standing next to them. They must be from Remus, surely. It would be just like him to put them in the jug rather than find a vase. But hadn't he had more important things on his mind when last she'd spoken to him?

Had something else happened?

Something she didn't remember? Or something she couldn't remember because she didn't even know about it?

Minerva sat up abruptly, feeling her stomach clench with sudden, unnatural nervousness.

Fragments of conversation drifted through from the living room.

"…she showed me," Minerva heard Remus say, "and I didn't realise it was possible, so early on."

"Oh yes," came a warm female voice. "The heart forms at about six weeks, though of course it's still immature at that stage."

Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva thought. But why is she here? Surely nothing's wrong with the baby?

She felt an ice-cold stab of fear through her heart. Poppy had warned her to rest. Poppy had told her to avoid unnecessary stress. Poppy had said…

No!

And then it all came back. The argument with Remus. The argument with Severus. That feeling of being tired, so exhausted she could barely lift her head up.

Minerva pushed herself up to a sitting position and glanced around desperately in search of her wand. The last place she remembered leaving it was in her desk drawer. Did Remus know that she kept it there? Would he even have thought to look for it if he was worried for her health?

She checked inside the bedside cabinet and was extremely relieved to find it tucked neatly into its dark green velvet case. Gripping it between shaking fingers, she aimed the tip at her belly, took a deep breath, and whispered the charm that would magnify her unborn daughter's heartbeat.

For a moment she heard nothing.

But then her ears were filled with it: the steady, determined flutter that meant life: life growing innocent and strong within her body. Immensely relieved, she climbed out of bed and was pleased to see that the worst of the dizziness had passed. She pulled on her robe, took a long drink of water and then made her way into the living room.

Remus lay sprawled out on the sofa, whilst Poppy sat neatly on the armchair opposite, her crisp white apron as pristine as usual and a marked contrast to Remus' rumpled attire which he clearly still hadn't changed since last night. Two empty teacups, a dish filled with biscuits and Minerva's entire collection of pregnancy books covered her previously immaculate coffee table.

"Ah, she's awake," Poppy said cheerfully. "Good afternoon, my dear."

Remus glanced round at her, reflexively swinging his legs off the sofa as he did so, in a manner that would have amused her had her thoughts not been elsewhere.

"How are you feeling?" he said, sounding slightly anxious.

"Fine," Minerva said. Noticing that this remark procured raised eyebrows from her companions, she added in rather a stern voice, "really. I just fell asleep."

Remus and Poppy exchanged glances infuriatingly as she sank gingerly into the remaining armchair.

"You must take more care, Minerva," Poppy said at length, helping herself to another biscuit. "Really, I don't know what Albus was thinking, letting you – no, encouraging you, even – to stay up all night."

Minerva conjured her own cup of tea with a swift flick of her wand, cradled it in both hands and sipped it slowly. Her mind was still reeling slightly at the loss of most of the day. She'd had plenty planned in even without the excitement of the previous night – and now she'd have to work hard to catch up.

As if he'd read her thoughts, Remus said firmly, "there's nothing so important it can't wait until tomorrow," and punctuated his statement with a gentle rub of the palm of his hand against her belly.

"Well, I've lingered here long enough," Poppy said decisively. "Thank you for the tea, Remus, but I really must get back to work."

Minerva started to rise but Poppy waved her back down.

"It's all right. I can see myself out perfectly well. I'll see you for a chat and another check up, Minerva, just as soon as you've got a spare moment."

Her tone made it clear that there was no room for argument.

"I want to apologise this morning," Remus said, once the door had closed firmly on Poppy and they were left alone. "I didn't mean to take my frustrations out on you. And I certainly shouldn't have shouted at you like I did. I'm sorry."

Remus reached his arms out in an apparent plea for forgiveness and Minerva walked willingly into his embrace. She was struck by the change in his manner since she'd last seen him. It was almost as if she'd dreamt the whole, horrible morning.

"It's all right," she said at length. "I can understand that you were upset. We all were. And I'd rather you were honest about how you were feeling. I wouldn't want you to cover it up, just because you were worried about me."

"But if anything had happened, if you'd lost the baby or something I would never have forgiven myself."

"Remus," she reminded him gently. "All I did was fall asleep."

"Really?" He gave her a disbelieving look. "Well, I'll be making sure you get plenty of rest from now on, believe me."

He kissed her before she could protest.

"By the way," he said as he sat back down. "Hermione Granger was looking for you."

"Did she say what she wanted?"

"No." Remus drained the last of his tea and set the cup back down on the coffee table. "I told her you were resting and couldn't be disturbed. She's going to come and see you tomorrow instead."

"Oh."

As she watched Remus vanish the tea things and start to tidy away the books, Minerva felt suddenly worried again. With all the drama of recent weeks she'd forgotten about Hermione Granger, but now she thought about it there didn't seem to have been much improvement. And she hadn't been at the party the previous night either. Minerva cursed herself for not noticing sooner. She'd taken a big risk when she'd allowed Hermione to have the Time Turner. She'd deliberated through most of the summer over whether or not she was doing the right thing and had eventually decided that the girl at least deserved a chance. She hadn't thought about what might happen if she fell out with her friends. Was it all to do with that blasted broomstick?

Remus returned with a jar of moisturiser from the bathroom and knelt down by her feet. He began gently smoothing the cream into her soles and Minerva wriggled her toes appreciatively. It was small, unexpected favours like this that meant far more to her than any grand romantic gesture. She knew they still had things to talk about but was grateful for the temporary reprieve.

"Now," Remus said calmly. "Tell me what happened with Snape and why your office looks like the aftermath of a Weird Sisters concert."

Too late. Minerva grimaced at the memory, now remembering fully what had taken place.

"He-" she began, and then stopped. "What makes you think Snape was involved?" she asked curiously.

"Poppy told me about the potion he was bringing you and then I found it on your desk. I put some in the water by your bed, by the way. I guessed you wouldn't smash a teapot by yourself."

With a heavy sigh, Minerva filled in the remaining details.

"I should have known better than to provoke him," she admitted reluctantly. "My behaviour was hardly admirable."

"_Your_ behaviour?" Remus said incredulously. "Minerva, if anyone has cause to apologise for their behaviour, it's Severus! All he ever seems to do is try and upset people, and that's bad enough in its self. But to have a go at you like that knowing that you're tired, pregnant and vulnerable… why on earth are you feeling sorry for him?"

"I'm not feeling sorry for him," Minerva protested weakly.

"You should tell Dumbledore," Remus continued.

"There's no need for that."

Remus gave her a thoughtful look.

"Have you ever considered that he might be in love with _you_?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious."

Minerva stared at him in disbelief and he shrugged in response.

"Just a thought. I'm going to have a bath. You're very welcome to join me."

He disappeared into the bathroom and soon the sound of running water reached her ears. Minerva exhaled slowly. Severus in love with her? Surely not! It was unthinkable. He'd never shown the slightest flicker of interest in her before, despite all the years they'd been working together. But on the other hand, it would explain his behaviour. Feeling confused, she made her way slowly into the bathroom to join Remus.

"The meeting!"

He paused midway through unbuttoning his shirt.

"What about it?"

"I missed it!"

"It's fine," Remus said with infuriating calm. "I spoke to Dumbledore. He spoke the Heads of House. Everything's been sorted out."

"Is there anything I have to do?"

"No. Cynthia and Filius were both very happy to pick up a little extra. Cynthia's been keeping an eye on Gryffindor for you too. She sent the flowers. And the tin is from Filius. It's peppermint tea. He thinks it'll help you sleep better."

Minerva swallowed.

"Do they… do they know?" she asked reluctantly. She knew she'd have to face the rest of the faculty sooner or later but she'd been hoping she could put it off for a little while yet. They'd taken the news of her... well, her _affair_ with Remus well enough, but that didn't mean they'd feel the same way about her latest bombshell.

"Dumbledore told them," Remus confirmed, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he discarded the last of his clothes into the laundry basket.

"Are they angry?"

Remus smiled affectionately at her as he settled himself in the water. "Don't. Be. Ridiculous," he parroted softly.

"Really?"

"Really. Now take your clothes off."

Without really thinking about it she slipped off her dressing gown and hung it carefully on the back of the bathroom door. Swiftly she tugged the night gown up over her head and off, and then stopped abruptly when she realised Remus was grinning at her.

"What?"

"Don't stop," he said mischievously. "I'm enjoying it."

She rolled her eyes at him, feeling suddenly conscious of her nakedness. When had she become so comfortable with him that she could strip off in front of him without even thinking about it? Yet again she was painfully aware of how quickly things were changing. Despite Remus' reassurance, it was still taking a great deal of getting used to.

"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Remus said as she joined him in the water.

"What?"

He kissed her instead of answering, pulling her close and leaving her in no doubt as what he meant.

"We did that yesterday," she murmured breathlessly a few moments later.

"Exactly."

"It's nice to see you feeling better."

She ran her hands through his hair only to find it still full of dust from where he'd been searching the cellars that morning. Despite his protests, she insisted on washing it out.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Remus insisted, but couldn't keep the smile off his face. "I see your maternal instincts are kicking in, that's all!"

Minerva felt his hand caress the soft curve of her stomach. She reached her arms around his shoulders and nestled her head in the crook of his neck, still not feeling completely happy.

She sighed despondently.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"I'm just… I feel so _emotional_ lately."

He grinned. "I think you'll find that's the hormones."

"I know! I know it is, but I hate it, Remus. I hate feeling so confused all the time. Nothing seems to make sense any more."

She gazed imploringly at him and he stopped smiling abruptly.

"Look, I know it must be horrible for you. But it won't be for long. You'll be back to normal before you know it. Except that, well... it won't be normal because we'll be parents. And I know it won't be easy but it _will_ be wonderful. And you will make a fantastic mother."

"Really?"

"Really."

* * *

Once they were both dressed, Minerva settled herself back into the living room with the Prophet, though it went completely against her instincts to do so. Sunday nights were for catching up on correspondence and checking over lesson plans for the forthcoming week. Still, much as she hated being told what to do, Remus and Poppy were right. She wasn't helping herself by working so hard.

In sharp contrast, Remus was sat behind her desk, poring over the first in a pile of books that covered the polished mahogany surface. So far he'd deflected all of her efforts to find out what he was doing but her curiosity was rapidly getting the better of her. Soon the paper lay forgotten in her lap as she craned her neck to read the title of the nearest volume, cursing the fact that she'd left her glasses by her bed.

Just as she was debating whether to go and retrieve them, there was a sharp bang as Remus abruptly closed the book he was reading. Gathering the whole stack into his arms, he announced that he was going downstairs.

"You've got more books in your office, haven't you?"

Most of her collection was in her office. She nodded, now even more intrigued.

"The key should be in the top drawer of my... well, it's wherever you put it. You're welcome to have a look. Is there something I can help with?"

"No, I just had an idea."

"You won't do anything... reckless, will you?" she said rather anxiously. The memory of yesterday's run in with Severus was still very much on her mind. She knew that Remus was trying his hardest to remain calm about it, and that Severus would probably be trying just as hard to provoke him.

"Minerva," Remus said gently. "I promise. I'm just going to do a bit of research."

She nodded her acquiescence.

"Now," he said firmly. "You're to stay here and rest. The house elves will bring dinner up at seven. Poppy's been giving them instructions, you know."

And before she could argue, he was gone.

* * *

Minerva awoke early the following morning to find Remus sprawled out next to her, fast asleep. She hadn't heard him come back the previous evening and she'd waited past midnight, only giving up when the words in her book started blurring and she could no longer keep her eyes from closing. She slipped out from beneath the coverlet as quietly as she could, pulled on her dressing gown and went to get dressed, wondering all the while what Remus had been up to. She really hoped he hadn't done anything irresponsible. Despite his promise to the contrary, she still wasn't completely reassured. She hadn't forgotten the escapades he'd got into as a student – there'd been plenty even with just the ones she knew about, and goodness knows what else he and his friends had got away with. Time and experience had changed Remus Lupin a great deal since then but Minerva knew he still had a mischievous streak deep down.

The same Remus Lupin sauntered into the bathroom barely fifteen minutes later, leaning over the sink to plant a kiss on his lover's cheek as she was pinning back her hair. Minerva arched an eyebrow teasingly at him, deciding that a light hearted approach would be best.

"You know, some women would be rather upset if their partners disappeared for most of the night without saying where they were going."

Remus grinned and set his shaving soap back down on the side of basin.

"Ah," he said, turning to face her. "Lucky for me, then, that my partner's far too sensible and trusting to do a thing like that."

"Lucky for you," she echoed in mock disbelief.

"I only went to the library," Remus conceded. "I wanted to read up on disguises and illusions so that I might have a clue as to how Sirius was getting into the castle. I knew if I told you then you'd want to come and help. I didn't realise how late it had got."

"Did you find out anything useful?"

"Not really. There's hundreds of ways he could do it. But he'd have to disguise himself as something, so if we could work out what the 'something' is, we might stand a chance of catching him."

He began to shave with slow methodical strokes.

"Well," Minerva considered carefully. "That blasted knight said it was a man he let into Gryffindor Tower. Sirius wasn't disguised then."

"No, but he couldn't have got all the way through the castle without being seen, even at that time of night."

"What if he's got an invisibility cloak?"

"He couldn't afford one," Remus said. "He'd have to go to Gringott's to get at any of his money and there's no way they wouldn't spot him."

"But he might have had money hidden away somewhere," Minerva persisted. "Or he might have stolen a cloak. Or another of You Know Who's supporters might have lent him one."

Remus shrugged his shoulders and reached for his facecloth.

"See what I mean? It's hopeless."

"Maybe not. He doesn't have a wand."

Remus paused. "How does you know he hasn't got a wand?" he asked curiously. "He might have got one of them from You Know Who or stolen it."

"If Sirius Black had a wand he could have murdered all of the boys in that dormitory with a single spell. A silencing charm would have stopped anyone hearing if they'd screamed."

Remus did not reply and Minerva felt shaken once more by how much danger Harry had been in. It sickened her to think how simple it could have been for Black.

"Let's not talk about this now," she said gently. "You know Dumbledore will be doing everything possible."

Her gaze fell on the table beside her bed where Remus had left one of the books he'd got from her office. It was 'Modern Animagus Training': the one she'd lent to Hermione Granger all those weeks ago. Staring at the illustration on the cover, a sudden inspiration hit. Minerva gathered her robes and went to fetch her wand and diary.

"Where are you going?" Remus called from the bathroom. "It's not even seven thirty yet."

"I just had an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

She paused, one hand already on the doorknob.

"You'll just have to be sensible and trusting, Remus!" was all she said.

* * *


End file.
